The Dragon is Reborn Again
by Ynyr
Summary: Harry dies in the Chamber of Secrets, but the CREATOR sends him back along with the memories of a man called Rand al'Thor. It seems that the Boy-Who-Lived is the reincarnation of the Dragon Reborn.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This is a crossover with the "Wheel of Time" series, but only **two** of Robert Jordan's characters will be reborn.

* * *

Harry Potter lay dead in the Chamber of Secrets, and the **CREATOR** was not amused. **HE** didn't really care about the young wizard, but the boy's death was going to cause a slight problem down the road. Without Harry the planet Earth would be reduced to a barren, lifeless rock in less than a hundred years time. The **CREATOR** was quite fond of the Earth in general and the fjords of Norway in particular, so **HE** decided to break the rules and save the boy's life. In a nanosecond the basilisk poison was neutralized, the horcrux accidentally left behind by Voldemort all those years ago was destroyed, and Harry's many other physical flaws were corrected.

Reincarnation was thought to be nothing more than a superstition by the late twentieth century, but in truth it happened all the time. While human bodies came and went, the human soul was a much more resilient piece of work. It could last for thousands upon thousands of years, and a few of the more powerful of these souls were reborn on multiple occasions. The souls didn't possess any memories from their previous lifetimes, but certain abilities and strengths were carried over from one body to the next. This unusual quark of nature provided another way to improve the boy's chances of survival.

The **CREATOR** seized Harry Potter's departing soul and began to fiddle around with it. This soul was very powerful and had accomplished many great deeds during its other lifetimes. It took the **CREATOR** another nanosecond to reassembled the memories of two of those other lives, placed them into Harry's soul, and then shoved the whole thing back in the boy's now-healthy body.

Even after this grand cosmic intervention there was still an excellent chance that the planet would end up a barren, lifeless rock in a hundred years time. But it was no longer a sure thing.

* * *

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Age of Reason by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a young wizard opened his eyes. This was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was _a_ beginning.

If you asked the recently dead wizard what his name at that moment he would have been hard pressed to answer with any certainty. Was he Lews Therin Telamon, the four hundred year-old Aes Sedai who had led the forces of Light against the Dark One during the War of Power? Or was he Rand al'Thor, the twenty-two year-old Dragon Reborn who had defeated the same Dark One during the Last Battle? Or was he simply Harry Potter, a twelve year-old wizard? As far as the boy could tell he was now all three of these people at the same time.

It was very, very confusing.

However if you asked the recently dead wizard how he felt at that moment he would have answered at once that he was feeling great. Really, really great. For years the twin wounds in his side had throbbed with excruciating pain, but now that pain was finally gone. It was such a relief that he didn't want to move, but taking a nap on the damp floor of the Chamber of Secrets didn't seem like a practical plan. Especially when Ginny Weasley was sitting next to him screaming at the top of her lungs.

"You were dead! You were dead!" the tiny redhead shouted over and over. "You were dead!"

"Ginny, I was not dead," Lews Therin/Rand/Harry said as he sat up. He took a few seconds to study his new left hand before adding: "I was just resting for a bit while the phoenix tears healed the basilisk poison. As you can see I am now perfectly fine."

At this point Ginny stopped screaming and started to cry in earnest. The confused wizard reached over and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Trust me, everything will be alright."

As the girl continued to cry, Harry pondered his current situation. The magic he had been taught during the last two years here at Hogwarts was nothing like yielding the One Power. For instance both boys and girls performed the same spells using the same methods. In his other two lives men channeled Saidin while woman channeled Saidar, and any attempt to alter that arrangement resulted in certain death. Nor did the use of magic produce the euphoric sensation that the One Power always did—when you cast most spells you simply felt... nothing.

"Ginny, stop crying. Now."

The witch responded at once to his commanding voice, and they both got to their feet.

Harry picked up the Sorting Hat which had been lying on far side of Chamber. "You are obviously a diagnostic tool of some sort, so can you tell me if the diary is still affecting Miss Weasley?"

"I have no idea, but let me have a look anyway," the Hat replied. Ginny was frightened but didn't flinch when Harry put the ancient artifact on her head. "As far as I can tell she is in perfect mental health, but this sort of thing isn't what I was created for."

"That is good enough for now," Harry said as he placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. He then handed her his phoenix-feather and holly wand. "I want you to do something important for me. Cast a spell, any spell at all."

"You want me to use your wand?"

Despite the dirt and tears it was easy to see the blush on her pale cheeks, and Harry wondered if he was missing some obscure courtship ritual. Or maybe the girl had just been corrupted by her six juvenile brothers. "Yes, any spell will do."

"Lumos!"

Well, this was certain unprecedented: a female was channeling Saidin. He knew for certain that Ginny wasn't a male trapped in a body of the wrong gender because she was also channeling Saidar. He couldn't actually see the female half of the One Power, but the something was interacting with the Saidin inside of that glowing ball of light. The swirling patterns were similar to those he had encountered in the past when working with female Aes Sedai.

"Try another spell for me."

Ginny was only a first year, but she had an impressive repertoire at her disposal. The results were always the same though. It seemed that witches and wizards used both halves of the One Power, something thought to be impossible during the Age of Legends. But what did this mean for new and improved Harry Potter? Was he still a wizard who used magic, or was he an Aes Sedai who channeled Saidin? Or was he both? Making the wrong choice could easily get both him and everyone else in Hogwarts killed.

"What the bloody hell is that thing?" Ron asked in a shrill voice when he entered the Chamber of Secrets a few minutes later.

"It's a basilisk," an excited Ginny told her brother. "Harry killed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. And then he stabbed the diary with one of its poisonous fangs and killed that bastard Tom."

"Who is Tom?" Ron demanded.

"That is not important now," Harry said as he carefully placed the diary in the pocket of his robe. "Where is Professor Lockhart?"

"I left him back at the other end of the tunnel. The tosspot doesn't even know his name anymore. How are we going to get out of here?"

"That is good question. Ron grab the Sword of Gryffindor, but don't touch the black poison on the blade. Fawkes, could you help us reach the second floor?"

The red-and-golden phoenix had been watching Harry ever since his miraculous resurrection. For some reason the mythical creäture seemed afraid. Rather than grant their request it simply disappeared in a ball of dazzling flames.

"I will take that as a no," Harry muttered. "Let's try the tunnel."

The tunnel also turned out to a problem. It was already partly collapsed, and as soon as Ron moved the first stone the unstable roof gave in. Neither Lews Therin Telamon nor Rand al'Thor had been scholars during their lives. Instead they had been men of action, so without much conscious thought Harry visualized the Flame and the Void in his mind. He pushed all his troubling thoughts and emotions into the Flame, and then entered the Void where it was possible to reach out and seize control of Saidin. It was still waiting there for him, pure and untainted by the Dark One. The ecstasy of holding it in his body once again was almost overwhelming.

Again without much conscious thought Harry wove a dozen or more weaves of the element Earth, and channeled them towards the tunnel. Instead of levitating, the rocks began to melt as if they were ice cubes on a hot summer day. In a matter of seconds a new tunnel began to form. At the far end was Professor Lockhart, who was standing there like an idiot watching the process in amazement.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Ron asked.

Harry realized that he hadn't raised his wand or uttered an incantation. It was a stupid mistake, but the new memories flooding his mind made it difficult for him to concentrate. Luckily the others had no idea that he had just channeled the One Power. Not even Ron, who as a male should've been able to see the flows of Saidin.

"Salazar Slytherin must have enchanted the stones down here," he suggested, hoping to throw the two Weasleys off the scent.

"Maybe it was booby trap designed to kill intruders, like the old tombs in Egypt that Bill is always telling us about," Ginny offered. "Our oldest brother works for Gringotts as a cure-breaker."

"Yes, Ron told me about him last year," Harry replied as they began walking towards Lockhart. "If those stones really were enchanted, there also might be a staircase we didn't see earlier."

"Who are you three children?" Lockhart asked when they reached him. "Where are we? And who am I?"

"Ron, if he asks another question or makes any sudden moves bash him in the head with the Sword," Harry snapped.

Ron's eyes went wide when he heard that order. "But won't the poison kill him?"

"Perhaps. Listen if he had successfully erased our memories Ginny would be dead, Voldemort would have a new body, and the basilisk would have been free to attack Hogwarts," Harry explained as he studied the hole in the ceiling. Again he seized Saidin and channeled. Immediately a new staircase formed in the stone leading up towards the girl's lavatory on the second floor.

"Those look kind of steep," Ginny whispered.

"Just take my hand, we can make it."

The hike up the steps was nerve-racking, but they did finally reach the second floor. Harry insisted that the group head straight to the Headmaster's office. A stone gargoyle was guarding the door, but it hopped aside when it saw them. There were a number of wizards and witches waiting inside. The Headmaster was staring out the window while McGonagall, Snape, and Lucius Malfoy were all arguing with each other. Mr and Mrs Weasley were off to one side of the office, and they were the first to notice the newcomers.

"Ginevra! Where in the name of Merlin have you been all this time?" Mrs Weasley bellowed as she rushed to her daughter's side. Ginny—who was still holding Harry's hand and still wearing the Sorting Hat—shied away from her mother's embrace.

"We were down in the Chamber of Secrets," Ron replied.

"Professor Lockhart, is this true?" McGonagall asked.

"Are you by chance addressing me Madam?" Gilderoy asked as he gave the old witch a theatrical bow.

"The wanker tried to Obliviate us, and the spell backfired on him," Ron explained. "He doesn't remember who he is anymore."

"We aren't saying anything else until an official representative of the Ministry of Magic is present to take our testimony," Harry said as he shot his best friend a threatening look. An hour ago Ron would have just laughed it off, but now he cowered in genuine fear.

"That will not be necessary Mr Potter," McGonagall sniffed.

"Yes, it is necessary," Harry said coldly. "This whole episode isn't going to be swept under the rug like last year's debacle."

Lucius Malfoy had been watching Harry and Ginny carefully since they walked into the office, and something in Gryffindor's tone of voice made him smiled. "Yes, I also think Minister Fudge would like to know what is really going on here at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore walked over to the fireplace and threw a handful of Floo Powder into the flames. "Director Bones' office!"

The face of a woman soon appeared in the green flames. "Is there some new development in the case Albus?"

"Yes Amelia, I believe the situation has finally been resolved."

A few seconds later the Director of Magical Law Enforcement emerged from the flames. Despite her short grey hair she looked to be in her mid-forties, and Harry couldn't help but noticed that she was quite attractive. "Lucius Malfoy and the Boy-Who-Lived. Why do I have the feeling this isn't going to be pleasant?"

"Because hearing the truth rarely is," Harry remarked.

He than launched into a barebones account of what had happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. Director Bones interrupted him several times, but her questions were always very astute. After dealing with Dumbledore's apparent incompetence for the past two years it was a refreshing change.

"So Miss Weasley acquired You-Know-Who's enchanted diary sometime during the summer?"

"Yes, right after her father's public fight with Lucius Malfoy in Diagon Alley," Harry explained. By now all four of the Weasley's looked like they were ready to explode.

"That is a vile slander boy," Lucius hissed.

"I am sorry, but I have to agree with him," Director Bones admitted. "The Wizengamot would dismiss a case like this in five minutes."

"What about the Malfoy's house-elf? He warned me several time about a plot against Hogwarts," Harry offered.

"Dobby!" Lucius suddenly shouted. The elf appeared at once, and before anyone could stop him the pureblood aristocrat decapitated the poor creäture with a Severing Hex.

"Expelliarmus," Dumbledore whispered a split-second later, and Malfoy's wand flew to the furious Headmaster. "How dare you slaughter an innocent elf in my presence?" The old wizard demanded as he covered Dobby's head and body with a transfigured blanket.

Despite the fact that he was facing a room full of hostile opponents Lucius smirked. "The elf was mentally ill, and I was well within my rights to dispose of it before it could spread any more lies about my family."

Harry looked at Director Bones, who nodded. "Legally the elf was his property, which means he can't be prosecuted for its murder."

"My wand Dumbledore," Lucius said calmly. Once it was in his hand he carefully retreated to the Floo. "This had been a most interesting meeting, but I have pressing engagements elsewhere."

Arthur Weasley was the first to speak once Malfoy was gone. "That filthy Death Eater almost kills my daughter, and we are just going to let him walk away? There must be something we can do Albus."

"What you can do is take Ginny to St Mungo's for an evaluation by a trained Healer," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat thinks she is alright, but it might have missed something. I'm sure Hogwarts will be glad to pay any medical bills you incur. Isn't that correct Headmaster?"

"Yes, it is," Dumbledore offered. "Arthur, please take your daughter and Professor Lockhart to St Mungo's. Tell the Healers to spare no expense. Ronald, return to Gryffindor Tower and inform your brothers that Ginny has been found and is being looked after by your parents. And please leave the Sword of Gryffindor on my desk."

Harry decided to get rid of a few more witness. "Professor Snape, I believe a freshly killed basilisk would be a valuable source of potion ingredients." It was amusing to watch the hatred Snape had for James Potter's son battle with the professional greed of a Potion Master. Greed finally won as the professor rushed from the office without a word.

"Minerva, please go with Severus and make sure he doesn't accidentally lose any of the more valuable pieces of the basilisk," Dumbledore said in a tired voice.

That left only Director Bones. "As an officer of the law do you require any more information?" Harry asked.

"No, I have everything I need. It's clear that this whole mess was a plot by Lucius Malfoy to discredit Arthur Weasley and his pro-muggle legislation, but we don't have enough evidence to convince the Wizengamot of that. He's going to get away with it."

"Sadly I agree," Dumbledore added. "But the basilisk's death is enough to clear Rebeus Hagrid of all charges."

"That's true. I will have him released from Azkaban by tomorrow afternoon," Director Bones promised.

"Good, I want Hagrid here when I receive my Order of Merlin, First Class," Harry said. The two adults present just stared at him, so he added: "I did just save a school full of children from a thousand year-old basilisk. That does deserve some kind of recognition."

Amelia smiled as she removed and then buffed her monocle. "Mr Potter does have a point."

"And Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley should both be award the Order of Merlin, Second Class. I couldn't have done it without their help. Please see to the arrangements Director Bones."

"You are a cheeky little devil, aren't you?" Amelia muttered as she grabbed some Floo Powder. "I leave the Boy-Who-Lived-Again in your capable hands Albus. Getting Hagrid out of Azkaban is going to take a mountain of paperwork."

Once Harry was left alone with Dumbledore he slowly and carefully reached into his robes and took out both his wand and the diary. He then placed them on the Headmaster's desk. "You think I'm possessed by Tom Riddle." It wasn't a question.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Dumbledore admitted. "Even without a wand you still aren't afraid of me at all. That alone suggests something is terrible wrong with you. There is also the fact that your speech patterns, vocabulary, and posture have all changed dramatically. If I didn't know better I would say you were my age."

"I did pull the Sword out of the Sorting Hat, and your phoenix did heal my wound. Doesn't that count for something?"

"My theory is that the... event occurred after Fawkes came to your aid. Being so close to death makes one vulnerable."

_'Sheep swallop and bloody buttered onions!'_ an angry Harry thought to himself.

He had walked into this office without even considering the possible consequences. Should he have tried to hide his new identity? The idea seemed abhorrent to him now that he thought about it. He was the Prince of Dawn, the Lord of the Morning, the Dragon Reborn... Again. He could no more pretend to be an ignorant teenage boy than the sun could pretend to be the moon.

"Are there any magical tests or ancient rituals that would ease your concerns?" Harry finally asked.

"None the Tom Riddle wouldn't be able to counter or negate with ease."

"Then we are at something of an impasse. What does the prophecy about Riddle and me say?"

The word "prophecy" caused Dumbledore to draw his wand again. "That question only proves that my fears are justified."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's obvious that Riddle wanted me dead as an infant, and he still wants me dead now. A prophecy of some sort is the only logical explanation."

"It may be obvious to you, but it wasn't obvious to Harry Potter."

"Do you intend to send me to Azkaban or is there a fully functional dungeon hidden somewhere in the depths of Hogwarts?"

"You flippant attitude is most troubling," Dumbledore remarked. "No, you will return to Number Four, Privet Drive without your wand or your Invisibility Cloak. Once there you will be guarded by a number of full-trained wizards and witches."

By this point here was a strange war going on inside of Harry's mind. Rand al'Thor wanted to lash out at Headmaster, preferably with Balefire. On the other hand Lews Therin was insisting that they act with caution. The speed, power, and grace of Dumbledore's Disarming Spell had shocked him. And while Ron Weasley hadn't been able to see Saidin, it was possible that an older and more experienced wizard could somehow detect his channeling and be able to counter it during a duel. So fighting wasn't an option... at least not yet. On the plus side a few weeks of peace-and-quiet would allow him to gather his wits and come up with some sort of long-term plan.

"What do you hope to gain by placing me under house arrest?'

Dumbledore hesitated, but then answered: "There are several wizards and witches in the Caribbean that I plan on consulting with after the school year is over."

"Well when you consult with these experts ask them what they know about reincarnation—magical or otherwise."

"Are you actually claiming knowledge of a past life?"

"I know, you don't believe me. But trust me, you will."

* * *

"I wish my parents could be here for this," a nervous Hermione said as the trio listen to Minister Fudge drone on. They were sitting in small room behind the Great Hall waiting for their names to be announced.

"Muggles can't deal with all the magic here at Hogwarts," Ron told her in an airy tone. Being awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class had the redhead in an excellent mood.

"I am perfectly aware of that fact, Ronald."

"Let me guess, you read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Listening to the two bicker was a strange experience for the new Harry. After eleven years it was clear that the Dursleys would never truly accept him, which meant Hermione and Ron were the closest thing he had to a family in this third life. However they now seemed less like best friends and more like beloved children. He could only hope that the radical changes in his personality didn't drive them away.

"...Ronald Weasley!" Fudge shouted.

"Ignore everybody but the Minister of Magic himself. You will look like an idiot if you start waving at the crowd," Harry told the boy before shoving him out the door.

A minute later came: "...Hermione Granger!"

The young witch froze up, so Harry decided she needed a distraction. "Remember to smile. You don't want everyone to think you are a humorless prig. I heard Lavender Brown call you that the other day."

"I am not a humorless prig!"

"Then remember to smile!"

Once she was gone Harry began running through several vocal exercises. During the Age of Legends Lews Therin had been famed for his oration. Indeed his wife Ilyena had often joked that it was his greatest talent. In truth the great Aes Sedai leader hated speaking in public, but he couldn't ignore how useful it was when it came to swaying public opinion in his direction.

"...Harry Potter!"

The large crowd waiting for him in the Hall included not only the students of Hogwarts, but many of their parents as well. A sizable number of magical VIP's were also in attendance, and they all cheered wildly when the Boy-Who-Lived came into to view. Fudge tried to put his arm around the young hero, no doubt hoping for a picture on the front-page of the _Daily Prophet_. Harry just shook him off. To the amazement of nearly everyone he climbed atop one of the tables, and then turned to face the crowd. Harry had no intention of giving his maiden speech surround by Fudge and his Ministry lackeys. No, if he was being forced to play the Great Game once again he was going to do on his own terms.

"Thank you my friends, thank you. If you would all be so kind to indulge me for a few minutes, I would like to tell you a story. A story about a brilliant wizard who attended this very school—who sat in this Great Hall nearly fifty years ago. His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry swung his feet out of the warm bed, and on to the cold stone floor as he prepared to defend himself. The subtle defensive ward of Spirit he had place at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower had been tripped ten seconds ago. The prefects were all in bed, so that meant the intruder was either a professor, someone from the Ministry of Magic, or a Death Eater. From the rough look of the man who came bursting through the door Harry figured he was probably a Death Eater.

"Is there a problem I can help you with Mr...?"

"Auror Moody. Dumbledore wants to see you right away Potter, so get your lazy arse dressed."

"Do you have any credentials to show me?"

Moody seemed to smiled, but Harry couldn't really be sure with all the facial scars. "You have good instincts," the man remarked as he held out a strange metallic emblem.

"That's a real Auror Badge, like the ones that belonged to my mother and father," a sleepy Neville said from the other side of the room. "There is a special charm which makes it impossible to duplicate them using magic."

"Aye lad, you should be proud of Frank and Alice. They were as talented as any of the Aurors I've trained during my career," Moody told the embarrassed boy.

"It's four o'clock in the morning!" Dean yelled from beneath his pillow. "Will you all just shut up!"

The Auror responded to this request by casting a Stinging Hex.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Dean screamed.

"He's Mad-Eye Moody," Neville answered. "And he will send you straight to Azkaban if you cause any more trouble."

"No one is going to Azkaban night," Harry said as he released Saidin and laced up his old trainers. "You can all go back to sleep."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Ron offered.

"That won't be necessary. I will be perfectly fine on my own. Shall we go Auror Moody? We don't want to keep Headmaster Dumbledore waiting all night."

"You first Potter and kept your hands where I can see them."

There was another Auror waiting for them in the hallway. Harry was relieved to see that unlike Moody the tall African wizard had both of his eyes and legs. Now that he had his left hand back he didn't want to lose it again if another war broke out.

"What's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?" Harry asked as he buttoned his shirt. Both wizards were standing at a safe distance with their wands at the ready.

"Your little speech yesterday about the Voldemort and the Chamber of Secrets upset a few people," Moody replied. "A large and angry mob descended on Malfoy Manor a few hours ago. They thought the Death Eater scumbag should pay for placing the students of Hogwarts in such great danger."

"Draco is always bragging about the great wealth of the Malfoy family. Doesn't their Manor have extensive wards?"

The other Auror spoke for the first time: "Even the magical wards surrounding Hogwarts would be hard pressed to hold back two hundred enraged and intoxicated wizards casting random spells for an hour or two. Lucius and his wife Narcissa got away, but the Manor was burned to the ground."

"This is all very fascinating, but what does it have to do with me?" a cranky Harry asked. His twelve year-old body required eight hours of sleep every night and a strong cup of coffee every morning. He had a sinking feeling he was going to be deprived of both.

"Dumbledore feels you need to be sent home to Little Whinging before you can cause any more trouble," Moody explained. "We don't trust you with a portkey, so we will be traveling muggle-style."

"What about my school trunk and my owl Hedwig?"

"You'll get them back in few days if Dumbledore allows it."

When they reached the gates of Hogwarts Harry was shocked to see an authentic London taxi waiting for them. In the front seats were two female Aurors who looked to be in their mid-thirties. The driver was short, plump, and had rosy cheeks. To his experienced eye she seemed harmless enough.

However the appearance of the second witch was an unpleasant shock for Harry. With her dirty blonde hair, above-average height, and angular face she could've easily been a Maiden of the Spear. The female Aiel warriors had acted as bodyguards for Rand al'Thor during his previous life, and hundreds of them had sacrificed their lives to protect him. Thinking of their violent deaths filled him with a sense of sorrow and guilt.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" the witch asked.

Harry closed his eyes and looked away. "I apologized madam. You simply reminded me of someone I once knew."

"My name is Emmeline Vance, and this is Hestia Jones," she said with a smile. "You also mind me of someone I once knew."

Hestia snorted in a most unladylike way while looking in the rearview mirror. "I'll say. He is the spitting image of James, but with Lily's gorgeous green eyes."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both," Harry added as the two male Aurors got in the taxi and sat on either side of him. "I have been introduced to Moody here, but perhaps you two lovely ladies could tell me the bald fellow's name."

"For Merlin's sake, how could you be so rude Kingsley?" Emmeline asked. "After all, he is the Boy-Who-Lived."

"The name is Shacklebolt. And Dumbledore didn't drag the four of us out of bed for a tea party. Something is wrong with Potter, and we all know it."

Hestia turned around and looked Kingsley straight in the eyes. "He isn't the first teenager in the world to give a good speech. I say Harry Potter is innocent until Dumbledore provides us with something more than cryptic warnings."

"Enough chatter Hestia!" Moody barked. "Get us to Little Whinging before daybreak."

The taxi took off like a rocket... literally. The thing could actually fly like Arthur Weasley's enchanted Ford Anglia, but at a much greater speed. "How fast are we going?" Harry asked.

"This taxi has been enchanted to fly at eight-hundred kilometers per hour. It's also invisible to both the naked eye and muggle radar, so we won't need the Obliviators to cover our tracks," Hestia told him. "We should be at your house in thirty minutes or so."

"Well it's clear the Headmaster was very unhappy with my little speech, but what did you all think of it?"

"You publicly accused Lucius Malfoy, one of the most powerful men in Britain, of being a loyal Death Eater and of plotting to murder every muggleborn at Hogwarts. That took a big pair of brass balls," Emmeline admitted.

"It was stupid move," Moody snapped. "Every pureblood in the country will be out for your scalp when they read about this fiasco in tomorrow's Daily Prophet."

"I killed Voldemort, so weren't they already my enemies?"

"Not really. Back in November of eighty-one Dumbledore cut a deal with the conservative members of the Wizengamot," Emmeline explained. "As long as there was no more violence the Death Eaters who renounced Voldemort would be kept out of Azkaban. If the purebloods thought that Dumbledore and his muggleborn supporters were going to try and deprive them of their so-called "rights" they would have kept on fighting, even without their master."

"So the great Light Lord was willing to let murderers like Lucius Malfoy escape justice because that was the cost of peace," Harry reasoned. "I take it our side would have ultimately lost the war if the fighting had continued?" All four of the Aurors looked angry, but they didn't bother to deny his accusation.

"You don't understand Potter. The Death Eaters lacked any sense of morality, and all that bloodshed had the average witch and wizard terrified," Moody explained. "Even without Voldemort it was only a matter of time until the Ministry of Magic was overthrown by the pureblood extremists. Dumbledore did what was necessary to keep the moderates like Millicent Bagnold in office."

"And what if the war started back up again tomorrow?"

"We would lose," a morose Shacklebolt said. "The purebloods have the political power and the galleons needed to beat us."

"They also have a large number of fanatics who have no problem slaughtering innocent civilians," Emmeline added.

"It is only the fear of Dumbledore's power that keeps them at bay. Fear of Dumbledore and of you," Moody explained. "But now thanks to your attack on Lucius Malfoy that all might change."

"Alright, so you believe that another war might flare-up. What have you been doing for the past ten years to prepare for this possibility?" Harry asked. No one had any answers for him.

They arrived in Little Whinging twenty minutes later. Hestia Jones was a better driver/pilot than Ron. She put the taxi down without a hitch, and they rolled to a stop directly in front of Number Four, Privet Drive. Harry was relieved to see that none of the lights were on. He could just imagine how badly his Uncle Vernon would have reacted if he saw a flying car in the neighborhood.

"Get out Potter," Moody barked as he opened the door. "Dumbledore is inside waiting for you."

* * *

"Isn't burglary a crime in the magical world?"

The Headmaster didn't care for the joke. "Sit down."

"Auror Moody has already told me about the fire, and how I've upset the fragile political balance here in Britain with my rash behavior," Harry said, hoping to have a civil conversation. "Although that wasn't my intention, I do apologize."

"Nonsense Tom, your plan is working perfectly. You have established Harry Potter as our country's greatest hero. In a decade or less I have no doubt you will be elected as the Minister of Magic."

First he was dragged out of bed in the middle of the night like a common criminal, and now he had to deal with this nonsense. Perhaps seeing Emmeline Vance and being reminded of the fact that everyone he loved was dead pushed Harry over the edge. Or perhaps he was just looking for an excuse to teach this presumptuous wizard a much-needed lesson. Either way he seized Saidin, wove a shield of pure Spirit, and slammed it into place.

"I'm done being polite. Give me your wand. No, on second thought you can keep your stupid little stick."

Dumbledore reared back as if he had been slapped in the face. "What did you just say boy?"

"I am no longer a boy, and you heard me the first time."

"Stupefy," the old wizard said, but no spell emerged from his distinctive wand.

"It's no use. I have you shielded, which means you can longer access your magic," Harry explained.

"That is impossible. No wizard since the great Merlin has been able to steal another person's magic," Dumbledore said as he continued to play with his now unless wand. "Unless you really are..."

"Now we are finally getting somewhere. I want to tell you a story about the true nature of what you call magic, but I believe a few visual aids will help speed-up the process."

Harry reached out with his hand, and a thin vertical line appeared in middle of the room. This line began to twist and expand until it became a hole in the very fabric of reality. He then wove several bluish bands of Air around the Headmaster's body, carefully picked him up off the sofa, and carried him through the Gateway to a dark and dense forest.

"I recognize this place. We are in Forbidden Forest, near the Acromantula's nest," Dumbledore said. "How did you create that passageway without your wand?"

"I will answer your questions in a few minutes."

It had only been a week since Harry and Ron had visited Aragog here in the Forest, looking for information about the Chamber of Secrets. They had almost been eaten alive by the younger acromantulas, a transgression he found impossible to forgive or forget. Soon the disgusting creatures began to emerge from their underground lairs, and immediately they began to die.

Harry decided to put on an exhibition for Dumbledore. He used flows of Water to freeze the huge spiders in solid blocks of ice which he then shattered with giant hammers of Air. He used Earth to create stone spikes which impaled dozens while others simply disappeared when the ground opened up and swallowed them whole. Most of all he used Fire. Hundreds and hundreds of small flaming arrows flew from his fingertips in wave after wave. In a matter of minutes Aragog and his children were dead, and Harry wasn't even breathing hard. Dumbledore was still hanging in midair, slack-jawed.

"Do you still believe I'm possessed by the malevolent spirit of Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Harry asked.

"That no longer seems like a plausible hypothesis."

"So would you like to know what is really going on?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"As a gesture of good faith I'm going to release you. Don't make me regret it."

They began walking towards Hogwarts in silence. After a few minutes Dumbledore could no longer contain his curiosity. "Are you truly the wizard Merlin?"

"I'm not from the past. I'm from the future," Harry replied "Well, at least my new memories and skills are."

"I see. Or rather I don't," Dumbledore whispered. "Your spells have such strength, and you cast them without a wand. How is that possible? Is the magic you use..."

"Stop right there. I do **not** use magic. Instead I channel Saidin, the male half of the One Power. The One Power is the force which created and drives the universe, or the Wheel of Time if you wish to be poetic about it."

"So this is a skill which only men can learn?"

"Men use Saidin while women use Saidar," Harry explained. "At least they do in the future. As far as I can tell—and I really haven't had much time to test this theory—you used both Saidin and Saidar when you cast your spells, charms, and hexes. According to everything I was taught that should be impossible, but you appear to be doing it anyway."

"Perhaps our form of magic is superior to yours," Dumbledore offered.

"Don't be a fool," an irritated Harry snapped. After a few minutes he added in a gentler tone: "I don't know Albus, maybe you're right. May I call you Albus?"

"That depends on how old you are."

"If you added all three of my lives together, I would be four hundred and forty years-old."

"Than I believe it would be appropriate for you to call me Albus in private, but I would ask that you refer to me as Headmaster Dumbledore when we are in public."

Harry smiled. "Of course."

"So what should I call you?"

"First I was Lews Therin Telamon. Then I was Rand al'Thor. But now I'm just Harry Potter. It's a good name."

"As I was saying your magic may be superior to my channeling in certain ways, but you have a critical weakness. You can't form circles with other wizards and witches. When the Aes Sedai wanted to accomplish something truly spectacular during the Age of Legends we would create circles composed of thirty-five men and thirty-seven women."

Dumbledore did the figures. "You could combine the magic of seventy-two individuals, and then use all that power to create spells?"

"It was not magic, it was the One Power. And it wasn't a matter of pure addition either, since a circle doesn't draw all of a person's strength," Harry explained. "It was the incredible power of these circles which made the Aes Sedai so useful to humanity."

"So in the future there are no more wizards or witches, there are only Aes Sedai?"

"The title means "Servants of All", and that's what we were. Or least that's what we strived to be," Harry added.

"And what did you accomplish with these magnificent circles?"

"You are a Master of Transfiguration, are you not?"

"I would like to think so," the Headmaster said in jest.

"Then create a map of the world using either stone or metal. And please make it as accurate as possible."

Dumbledore began to move this wand in a complex pattern, and a nearby boulder quickly transformed into a bas-relief map of the world over five meters-wide. The seas and oceans were made out of thousands of small blue diamonds, the forests and plains were marked with emeralds, and the mountains were constructed out of pure amber. As a final touch the two polar caps were covered with white pearls.

"Show-off."

"You may have great powers Harry Potter, but I'm no slouch myself."

"During the Age of Legends the Aes Sedai decided that our humble planet was in need of improvement." Harry said as he began to channel. Slowly the huge map began to change. "Over the course of thousands of years they slowly reshaped the continents and oceans in order to create a more pleasant environment for humanity."

Dumbledore studied the new map in shock. "These circles of yours were actually capable of moving mountains?"

"Among other things. The Aes Sedai could control the weather, accelerate the production of crops, and craft entire cities using the One Power. We could take hazardous waste and break it down into its component atoms for recycling. We could instantaneously heal any disease or injury, and we could instantaneously travel around the world. We even explored parallel dimensions."

"I often dreamed of building such a utopia during my foolish and misspent youth," Dumbledore admitted. "But your Aes Sedai actually succeeded."

Harry shook his head. "It was as close to perfect as we could make it, but in the end we were still just flawed human beings. Beneath the surface many problems were left to fester, just waiting for an opening. And in our arrogance the Aes Sedai provided that opening. Even with all the power we had, we still wanted more. Several our more brilliant researchers discovered a new and unknown source of energy which seemed to be independent of the One Power. It was just sitting there, so we decided to take it."

"Something went wrong?"

"It wasn't a new source of energy they discovered, it was a prison. The prison of the Dark One himself."

Dumbledore paled. "The Dark One? Are you actually claiming that your fellow Aes Sedai opened the Gates of Hell and freed Lucifer?"

"The Dark One has many names, and his more philosophical followers did claim the monster was the Antithesis of the Creator," Harry explained. "But was it actually your Lucifer? Truthfully I have no idea."

"Whatever the Dark One is, it's incredible powerful. Almost at once it began to corrupt our seemingly perfect world. Violence of all sorts returned with a vengeance, and after several decades of increasing corruption a war broke out. It was called the War of Power, and it was more horrific than you can possible imagine. At the time I was the leader of the Aes Sedai. They called me the Dragon, but no matter how many battles I won it was never enough. After ten years the war was all but lost, so in an act of desperation we decided to seal the Dark One's prison."

"This plan worked, but at a terrible cost. Saidin was tainted by the Dark One's last counterstroke. Every single male Aes Sedai was doomed to go insane, including me. Over the next few weeks I hunted down and killed everyone I had ever loved—even my wife and children."

Harry again gestured towards the map, and the continents seemed to explode into strange new shapes. "For over three hundred years these insane men laid waste to the world and altered it beyond all recognition. Humanity barely survived this Breaking of the World."

"And then you were reincarnated as Rand al'Thor?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not quite. There was a prophecy that the Dragon would be Reborn before the Dark One could escaped from its prison. So over three-thousand and seven-hundred years later my... second mother died giving birth to me on the slopes of Dragonmount, which is where Lews Therin Telamon had committed suicide. I almost went insane a second time, but luckily with the help of a dear friend I was able to remove the taint from Saidin. During the Last Battle we created a new prison for the Dark One just before my second death. After that I woke-up in the Chamber of Secrets with this new body."

"You clearly felt the need to tell this story. Why?"

Harry continued to stare at transfigured map. "First let me ask you a question: in your opinion why am I here?"

"You are the subject of yet another prophecy," Dumbledore answered at once. "It speaks of a power that Tom Riddle knows nothing about, a power which you clearly now have. I believe that you were sent here by fate, or perhaps by this Creator of yours, to vanquish Tom Riddle once and for all."

"Would you still believe I'm here to vanquish Riddle if I told you that my memories returned to me at the exact same spot where Rand al'Thor died?"

"But you said al'Thor died just after his Last Battle with the Dark One."

"Yes, I did. Which means that the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is built directly on top of the Dark One's prison," Harry explained. "So, do you still think that dealing with a petty wizard like Riddle is the real reason I'm here?"


	3. Chapter 3

"If the goblins hate wizards, than why do we allow them to run something as essential as our financial system?" Harry asked Albus as they stood in a queue at Gringotts.

"It's true that the goblins hate us, but they hate us all equally. That makes them predictable, and thus ultimately trustworthy."

"That statement makes no sense at all. What would happen if you impersonated another wizard or witch using Polyjuice Potion?"

"Gringotts has extensive security measures to deal with a variety of magical threats, including Polyjuice Potion and the Imperius Curse. They also have the legal right to execute thieves."

"Than how did Professor Quirrell manage to break-in to Gringotts two years ago when he attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

"I have no idea," Albus cheerfully admitted. "That is why I had to move the Stone to Hogwarts."

"Next!" the goblin teller yelled.

Harry stepped forwards and placed a kilogram of high-grade gold ore on the desk between them. "Take me to the manager of Gringotts. I have important business to discuss with him."

"If this is a hoax you will not leave this bank alive," the teller sneered as he began to examine the ore closely with a red magnifying glass. After a few minutes he tapped a flat crystal with one of his long fingernails, and four heavily armed goblin warriors immediately surrounded them. "Take these two wizards to Ragnok's office."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Albus asked as they make their way through the bank's lopsided corridors. "The blood wards may seem primitive to you, but they thwarted nine well-organized assassination attempts during your childhood."

"The only kind of wards I trust are those I weave myself. Besides, the sooner I begin my research the better, and I can't do that sitting in Little Whinging," Harry replied as they entered a large office. "Greetings Ragnok, I am..."

"I know your name wizard. Now tell me, where did you find that piece of ore? It wasn't produced by the muggles."

Albus had been giving Harry history lessons on the goblins, and he had been fascinated to learn that the magic which created their unique coins was highly temperamental. Since modern muggle technology somehow corrupted gold's magical properties, the goblins were forced to search for virgin deposits they could purchase and mine themselves. Finding such a deposit had been a simply matter for an experienced Aes Sedai.

"It's under a small mountain in the Highlands, not far from Hogwarts. Unfortunately the ore is located about two kilometers underground. Will that be a problem for your miners?"

"Two kilometers? Then how do you discover it?"

"With magic," Harry replied evasively.

Ragnok has not amused, but didn't press the issue. "Such a project will be difficult for our miners, but far from impossible. You are certain this is a rich source of ore?"

"There are at least several tons, possible more."

"Your price?"

"Two things. First I want a cashier's cheque for one million pounds written out for Vernon and Petunia Dursley. I assume Gringotts has some sort of business relationship with one of the larger muggle banks here in London?"

Ragnok nodded. "We often work with Lloyds, so that won't be a problem. What else do you require?"

"As you may have read, I recently used the Sword of Gryffindor to slay a basilisk, and was very impressed with its craftsmanship. I was hoping your blacksmiths could forge a new sword for me," Harry said as he handed the goblin a highly detailed drawing complete with measurements and other specifications.

"Interesting. It is neither European nor Asian in design, but a mixture of both," Ragnok said as he studied the drawing.

"After my death it will of course be returned to your people."

"As it should be!" the goblin barked as he glared at them. "What of the Sword of Gryffindor? Will it also be returned to us?"

Albus held his hands up. "I am very sorry, but as you know the Ministry of Magic and the Hogwarts Board of Governors refuse to surrender possession of the Sword. It has tremendously cultural significance for the wizards and witches of Britain."

"Dishonorable thieves," Ragnok muttered under his breath. "Our blacksmiths will forge this sword if you give us a Blood Oath that it will be returned to its rightful owners when you no longer need it to slay your enemies."

"Whatever you require," Harry assured him.

The negations dragged on for the rest of the afternoon, but both parties did eventually sign a binding contract written in human and goblin blood. Afterwards they Traveled to Little Whinging using a Gateway. Harry wanted his future living arrangements settled once and for all.

"Is this some kind of freakish trick?" Vernon asked when he first saw the large cheque.

"You will refrain from using the word "freak" in my presence, is that clear? And yes, that cheque is perfectly valid."

"Why in the world are you doing this for us?" Petunia asked. She could tell that there was something different about the boy, and that made her nervous. "We have never been particularly close."

"You have to leave the country as soon as possible, and I thought that some extra money would make the transition easier for all of you," Harry told his Aunt.

"What do you mean we have to leave the country?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I explained in that letter all those years ago there are powerful magical defenses protecting this house from anyone who would attempt to harm your nephew. Once they are removed it will no longer be safe for your family to live here."

"Than don't take them down," an angry Vernon argued. "I have an excellent job with Grunnings. We also have family and friends here in Britain. I have no intention of moving anywhere."

"That is your decision," Harry said as he stood to leave. "If you are attacked by the Death Eaters they will torture and kill you. There won't be anything you or the police can to do to stop them."

"There must be some other option you can give us," Vernon demanded. "Some sort of... magical solution."

"I'm sorry Uncle, but I've done everything that I can. Goodbye Aunt Petunia. Come along Headmaster Dumbledore."

Once outside Harry dismantled the blood wards with a multifaceted attack of Spirit, Fire, Earth, and oddly enough Air. The wards were impressive, but he had decades of experience dealing with far more deadly defenses. He then opened a Gateway to Hogwarts and Inverted the weave to prevent any of the neighbors from seeing it.

Dumbledore seemed reluctant to leave. "You behavior towards your Aunt and Uncle was rather harsh."

Harry shrugged. "I have often found that a momentary bit of cruelty can be a source of kindness in the long run. The Dursleys now understand the gravity of the situation they are facing. In a few hours the shock will wear off, and they will come to their senses. By this time next week they will have convinced themselves moving to Australia or Canada was their idea in the first place."

"And if they don't come to their senses?"

"The most essential job of any leader is to choose their priorities, and to focus their efforts where they can do the most good," Harry replied. "The Dursleys are no longer my concern, and I refuse to waste any more of my time worrying about their welfare."

* * *

Hogwarts was huge, and even worse it was confusing. The thousand year-old castle was full of hallways that lead nowhere, hidden tunnels, and staircases that seem to have minds of their own. Unfortunately Harry Potter had to explore every square centimeter of the school. He was convinced that Hogwarts had been built on the site of the Dark One's prison, yet for some reason he could find no trace of its distinctive energy signature.

"What are you doing down here Potter?" Argus Flitch, the Caretaker of Hogwarts, asked. As always Mrs Morris was at his side. Many of the students believed that the wicked cat was the only thing in the world Flitch actually cared about.

"I am looking for something important, but it's proving to be rather difficult to find."

"Why didn't you leave on the Hogwarts Express with the other students?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore has given me permission to stay at the school during the summer so I can continue to work on my research project," Harry answered. "I hope you and Mrs Morris don't mind the extra company."

"What happened to your wand?"

"That's a very curious question to ask. How do you know that something happened to it?"

Flitch continued to study the teenager. "If you watch wizards long enough you start to notice that their bodies always orbit around their wands. Even when they accidentally fall their first instinct is protect their wands from breaking."

"Are you serious?" a skeptical Harry asked.

"Yes," Flitch replied. "But you're different now. You don't carry a wand anymore. It's like you never picked one up in your life. I'd say you move like a muggle, but that's not true either. It's like you don't have a care in the world. Why is that Potter?"

"I must say Argus, you're very perceptive for a Caretaker."

"When you're a squib there aren't many jobs you can apply for."

"Then why not leave the magical world, and build a new life for yourself out among the muggles?"

"Now that you know about magic could you leave it behind?"

The question hit a little too close to home for Harry. When an Aes Sedai was severed from the One Power—and the ecstasy that channeling provided—they inevitable committed suicide in one way or another. Some provoked hopeless fights they were certain to lose, while others simply went to sleep and never woke up. Only a handful of these crippled Aes Sedai were strong enough to resist the lure of death and to go on living without access to the One Power.

That's why Harry refused to take his old wand when Albus had offered it to him. He was concerned that performing magic would somehow interfere with his newly restored ability to channel Saidin. He wasn't sure what would happen if the two forces mixed, and had no way of finding out unless he wanted to experiment on himself.

Teaching Albus how to channel wasn't an option either. They would need his skill with a wand when Tom Riddle finally returned, in case there were some magical problems that channeling couldn't solve. The logical course of action would be to train some less important wizard how to channel, and then experiment on him. Another wizard... or perhaps a squib.

"Argus, can I ask you for a favor?"

Normally the Caretaker would have sneered and walk away while muttering about disrespectful brats. Instead he found himself caught up in the boy's strange charisma. "What do you want?"

Harry seized Saidin, and creating a small flame in the air between them. "I want you to concentrate on this flame. Ignore everything else, and just concentrate on the flame."

After twenty minutes Harry felt a resonance as Argus Flitch mentally reached out and responded to the Saidin in the small flame. Passing this basic test meant that at least some squibs could be taught to channel the One Power.

"What just happened?" the confused man asked.

"You may not be able to use a wand, but there are other forms of... magic that I can teach you about. But you must understand that this will be extremely dangerous. A single mistake could easily kill you."

Argus stared silently at Harry for a time, but then looked away. "I thought you were a good person like your mother Lily, but you're not. No, you're just a vicious bastard like your father and his bloody friends."

"True, I am a vicious bastard. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm telling you the truth. You can learn a form of magic, and I am willing to act as your teacher. The choice is yours."

* * *

Bellatrix Black—and that was always how she thought of herself—was studying the _Daily Prophet's_ picture of Harry Potter for the thousandth time. It had been taken the day he was awarded his Order of Merlin, First Class. All the Death Eaters in Azkaban had been given a copy of the paper because Potter claimed that Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, was nothing more than a half-blood.

Bellatrix and most of the other senior Death Eaters were already aware of this information, but they had chosen to follow the Dark Lord anyway. He was the most powerful wizard of the age, and the true Heir of Salazar Slytherin. He had also sworn a Magical Oath that under his leadership the purebloods of Great Britain would regain their lost honor and privileges. The fact that his father was a muggle was irrelevant when compared to all that.

Her own personal hypocrisy didn't concern Bellatrix at the moment. What concerned her was this bloody picture of Harry Potter. There was something in the way the boy stood and gestured with his left arm that seemed terrible familiar to her. If only she could remember why.

Then a name came to her: Rand al'Thor.

The witch knew no one called Rand al'Thor, yet for some reason the name invoked intense feelings in her mind. Feelings she could not understand. What she remembered most vividly was the pleasure. There was nothing in her life that compared to it: not the tedious fumblings she shared with her husband, nor the paltry enjoyment she took from casting the three Unforgivable Curses. How could she recapture that feeling?

Bellatrix knew that answer before she even asked the question. She would have to surrender herself to a greater power, something she had never done before. Poor Rodolphus had been so easy to dominate. It took nothing more than one of her rare smiles to bend his will in whatever direction she wanted. Many of the Death Eaters believed that she was the Dark Lord's creäture, but that had never been true. She had devoted herself to Voldemort and his crusade because he was a great wizard. It was her choice, and like a true lady she had always reserved the right to change her mind.

However with the Dark Lord gone and his loyal Death Eaters rotting away here in Azkaban that crusade was doomed to failure. In a few years Rand al'Thor would take Dumbledore's place as the master of those weak-minded fools in the Ministry of Magic. None of them had a shred of honor, and it was only a matter of time until the muggles destroyed all she held dear.

Faced with this bleak future Bellatrix finally found the courage to truly surrender to something greater than herself, and it worked. This unknown force filled her weak body with a sense of power and pleasure. Incredible pleasure. This was Saidar. She had never heard of this bizarre word before, but she was absolutely certain it wasn't a figment of her imagination.

"What is going on?" one of the Aurors on guard duty yelled a few minutes later. "The Dementors are acting crazy!"

"My Patronus Charm isn't holding them back!" another of the Aurors added. "Just get out of their way!"

For some reason Bellatrix knew the Dementors were coming for her, but she wasn't afraid of them anymore. A transparent web had appeared around her mind, and for the first time in years the aura of the foul creatures could no longer touch her. This had enraged the Dementors, and several of them converged on her cell.

Bellatrix looked down and found she was holding a short spear made of pure fire—a fire that didn't burn the flesh of her hand. She had never handled a spear like this before, but she had no trouble lunging forward and killing the Dementor. Face with a threat which could actually destroy them, the other members of the pack turned around and fled.

"What in the name of Merlin just happened?" the astonished Auror asked as they watched the Dementors escape through the barred windows and disappear into the fog of the North Sea.

Again Bellatrix stuck with her new spear of fire, stabbing the Auror directly in the heart. He collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. More of this new magic appeared and surrounded her entire body, rendering her invisible. The second Auror entered the cell but he couldn't see her, a fact which made killing him much easier.

Without a sound Bellatrix stalked the cold stone passageways of Azkaban that night. Since the prison relied primarily on the Dementors for security, only twelve Aurors were present on the island at any one time. Finding these guards was child's play for her—she could have done it with her eyes closed. None of them even had a chance to draw their wands and defend themselves during her hunt.

After finding a proper robe and some decent food, she returned to the floor where the other Death Eaters were kept.

"Trixie, what's going on?" Rodolphus asked in a horse voice when she opened his cell door.

"We are leaving this hellhole. Find a wand and release the others. Then collect all the food, galleons, and clothes you can carry. Move quickly. We don't have much time before more Aurors arrive on the island!"

Ten minutes later a ragtag group of ten Death Eaters gathered together near the prison gate. Most of them were still in shock, but Rodolphus and his brother Rabastan were grinning like loons. They both worshipped Bellatrix, and she knew they would follow her lead without hesitation. Some of the others might be a problem though.

"If you had the power to free us Lestrange, than why didn't you did it years ago?" a furious Travers demanded.

Bellatrix responded by repeatedly stabbing him with her new spear of fire. The attack was so brutal that the old Death Eater fell to the ground in two separate pieces. "Do the rest of you have any more questions?"

"No," the eight wizards replied at once. Even though they had new wands none of them were willing to tangle with the Dark Lord's most feared witch.

Voldemort had often spoken fondly of his travels in the wilds of Eastern Europe, and he had once taken her there for a short visit. Again Bellatrix surrendered control, an act which allowed her to channel Saidar. She pictured those wooded mountains in her mind and a vertical shaft of light appeared in front of them. This line quickly expanded into a sizable hole.

Only her husband had the courage to speak. "Trixie, what did you just do?"

"This hole will take us to Albania. If the Dark Lord is still alive, then we will find him there."

"You expect us to walk through that bloody thing?" Rookwood, a former member of the Department of Mysteries, asked. "Who knows what effect it will have on us, or where we will end up."

"If you are too frighten to come along then you can stay here," Bellatrix told him. "You might be able to overpower the new Aurors when they arrive and steal their boat, but I somehow doubt it."

* * *

A filthy black dog listened as Bellatrix made her plans and then disappeared with the remaining Death Eaters through that strange hole in the air. He had known his dear cousin for as long as he could remember, and she had always been a spoiled and vindictive bitch. Now she was so composed that she could have given etiquette lessons to that old battleaxe McGonagall. Had the Dementors driven her insane in some new way? He had no idea.

It didn't matter. The worst of the Death Eaters were now on the loose, and they believed that their former master was still alive. If this was true than Voldemort's first target would be his godson Harry. But how to warn him? In less than an hour the new shift of Aurors would arrive, but they would never believe his story. In fact they might even arrange for him to have a fatal "accident" after they discovered that all twelve of their colleagues had been murdered.

No, if he wanted to warn his godson about this new threat he would have to deliver the message himself. That meant swimming across the North Sea to the mainland. It seemed like an impossible task, but he had no choice. He wasn't going to abandon his responsibilities for a second time.

* * *

**A/N**: Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange is the other "Wheel of Time" character to be reborn in this story.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry let out a low whistle when the Knight Bus finally arrived in Ottery St. Catchpole. The Diggory's Georgian-style house wasn't quite a mansion, but it was far more posh than the run-downed Burrow. His friend Ron was always so conscious about being poor, and now he understood why. The Weasleys were obviously underprivileged compared to their neighbors in this small Devonshire village.

"Was there some reason we did not use the Floo?" Professor McGonagall asked as she tried to steady herself after the bumpy ride from Hogwarts. "Even apparition would have been preferable to that infernal contraption."

"Come now Minerva, a jaunt on the Knight Bus tops even the best muggle roller coasters," Albus commented as he slipped the conductor Stan Shunpike a one galleon tip.

"We are in the midst of the greatest crisis since the death of You-Know-Who. This isn't the time for your ridiculous frivolity."

"Tom Riddle might have been a lousy general, but he was brilliant psychologist. He had you all so paranoid you still can't think straight over a decade after his disappearance," Harry grumbled as they passed through the Diggory's wards. "Now is precisely the time when we need "ridiculous frivolity" the most."

"Mr Potter, you will refrain from lecturing your elders on subjects which you know nothing about," Minerva snapped. "Am I making myself clear?"

"As long as you continue to use the phrase "You-Know-Who" I will continue to dismiss you as an authority figure."

"Why you disrespectful..."

"Minerva, do try and calm down," Albus said as he knocked on the front door, which opened a moment later.

An older but still attractive witch came outside to greet them with a smile on her face. "Headmaster Dumbledore, it is such an honor to have you here tonight. And this must be Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry gently took the witch's hand and kissed it. "Mrs Diggory, I would like to thank you and your husband for the last-minute invitation. Please accept this humble gift. It's the best I could do on such short notice." He then handed her a crude glass bottle full of a brownish liquid which seemed to be glowing.

"Sweet Merlin, is this really Centaur Cider?''

"Yes, it is. Fresh from the Forbidden Forest."

"But how in the world did you get them to part with it?" an amazed Mrs Diggory asked.

"I'm sorry, but I promised the centaur leader Magorian that I would keep that bit of information a secret," Harry said with a grin. "Do be careful when you're serving it. The Cider is brewed with the avenge centaur in mind, so it's extremely potent."

"I will be sure to keep that in mind," she replied before turning to Minerva, who wasn't carrying a gift. "Professor McGonagall."

"It's good to see you again, Cecilia."

"Before we go inside I should warn you all that the mood among the other guests is grim," Mrs Diggory explained. "All anyone can talk about is the Breakout."

The Breakout. Harry could actually hear the witch capitalize the word. The news that ten of Voldemort's most feared Death Eaters had escaped from the inescapable Azkaban was bad enough, but even worse was the death of twelve Aurors. That relatively low number of casualties wouldn't have shocked a muggle, but the population of magical Britain was less than twenty thousand souls. So the loss of just twelve wizards had a tremendous impact.

However this particular party had been planned before the news of the Breakout was announced in yesterday's _Daily Prophet_. Most of the department heads from the Ministry of Magic were in attendance, along with scattering of businessmen and healers. The crowd went silent when Albus and Harry appeared. All of the wizards and witches present were purebloods, but none of them had approved of Voldemort or this bigoted agenda. Indeed most were strong supporters of the Dumbledore and the Boy-Who-Lived, whom many saw as the Headmaster's heir apparent.

Harry could tell they were desperate for reassurance, for someone to tell them that the chaotic and bloody civil war of the seventies wasn't going to flare up again. So that is exactly what he and Albus did as they casually mingled with the crowd. He could only hope they weren't lying.

About an hour later they were finally approached by their host Amos Diggory. "May I have a word with the two of you in my private study?"

They were led to a comfortable office, and despite the warm summer weather the fireplace was lit. Amos tapped his wand against the stone hearth to deactivate a defensive ward, and the red flames turned green. Seconds later an impressive looking wizard emerged. His long tawny hair was heavily streaked with grey and he had a limp, but Harry knew instinctively that this man was dangerous. The need to meet him on neutral ground was the reason they had attended the Diggory's party in the first place.

"Rufus Scrimgeour, it's good to see you again," Albus said after Amos left the three of them alone.

"Spare me the small talk Dumbledore. As the Chief Auror I have a great deal on my plate at the moment. You're the one who asked for this private meeting, so what do you want?"

"Very well. Let me be perfectly honest with you. Britain needs a new Minister of Magic as soon as possible, and I believe that you are the best wizard for the job."

Scrimgeour snorted loudly. "I couldn't agree with you more, but Cornelius Fudge will never step down."

"Normally that would be true," Albus allowed. "But he could be persuaded to leave of his own free will. I'm willing to give up my positions as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and as Britain's ambassador to the International Confederation of Wizards. Cornelius will resign as Minister of Magic if he is allowed to succeed me in both jobs."

"You are prepared to surrender all your political power just to get rid of that bumbling idiot?" a shocked Scrimgeour asked.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Albus replied.

"There is no guarantee that I would win the ensuing election."

"I would be willing to publicly endorse your candidacy at a time of your choosing," Harry added. "That plus the support of Headmaster Dumbledore's political faction should be enough to get you over the top."

"Well Dumbledore, I'm glad to see you have the boy well trained."

Harry gave Scrimgeour a nasty smile. "It's true, and I'm especially good at dealing household pests. Do you have any Dark Lords or thousand year-old basilisks that you would like me to get rid of?"

"Well spoken, Potter. I apologize," the Chief Auror said as he walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a tall glass of firewhiskey. He then downed it in one shot. "I suppose Mad-Eye has told you what happened out at Azkaban the other night."

"Alastor provided me with a general overview of the situation, but he left out any specific details," Albus replied.

"The Aurors we station at Azkaban aren't our best people, but they all have three years of combat training," a weary Scrimgeour told them. "Despite that training this mysterious killer caught them completely off-guard. None of them even have a chance to drawn their wands. There is also the matter of the magic that was used against them: all twelve were killed with some unknown fire curse that cut their hearts right in half. I've never seen such precisely-placed wounds before."

"The Dark Arts can allow a wizard to do terrible things."

"No Dumbledore, this wasn't the work of some common Dark Wizard you'd find in Knockturn Alley. It was done by a true artist, someone like Tom Riddle. Mad-Eye has hinted several times that the monster is still alive. Is this true?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that Tom is indeed alive."

"So that is why you want Cornelius out of the way," Scrimgeour reasoned. "I agree with you that he's too weak to face this kind of threat, but I'm not interested in being your puppet. Why not take the job yourself? You've been offered it on three separate occasions."

"If I stood for election the pureblood extremist would almost certainly revolt," Albus replied. "You on the other hand have a reputation for being independent of all the various political factions. Both sides will accept your leadership... at least for the time being."

"And what about the Order of the Phoenix? Under my leadership the Ministry of Magic will not tolerate employees who join vigilante groups, no matter how honorable their intentions are."

Albus and Harry shared a long look. As former generals both Lews Therin and Rand al'Thor had no use for individuals who flouted the chain of command. As a result Harry had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the Headmaster's "social club" if a war broke out in the future.

"The Order of the Phoenix will remain inactive as long as you agree to appoint Kingsley Shacklebolt as the new Chief Auror."

Scrimgeour bristled at this ultimatum. "He's too young."

"You were only four years older when you became Chief Auror," Albus countered. "Kingsley is without a doubt the most talented wizard of his generation, and you won't find a better candidate."

"Plus he is your strongest supporter among the younger Aurors, and a close friend of Mad-Eye. Is that your only condition?"

Albus nodded.

"Then we have ourselves a deal."

* * *

A week later Nymphadora Tonks, proud Auror-trainee, found herself standing in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic listening to a series of boring political speeches. For some mysterious reason the great Albus Dumbledore was stepping down as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Cornelius Fudge of all people had been chosen to replace him. The next day Rufus Scrimgeour had been elected as the new Minister of Magic by a large majority. As far as she could tell everyone was relieved to have a more aggressive leader in charge, and that included Fudge himself. Well, a good man knows his limitations.

"Professor McGonagall, do you know where the loo is located in this madhouse?" Harry Potter asked.

The old witch looked like she wanted to transfigure the boy into a litter box. That was odd since she usually doted on her lions almost as much as Professor Snape favored his snakes. She had even allowed Potter to join the Quidditch team as a first year, a violation of the rules which her fellow Hufflepuffs had bitterly complained about at the time.

"Auror Tonks!"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"Please escort Mr Potter to the lavatory, and see that the wretched child stays out of trouble."

"Yes ma'am! This way Mr Potter."

It was some distance from the Atrium to the nearest loo, and Tonks kept stealing glances at the famous Boy-Who-Lived as they walked. The Hogwarts grapevine insisted that Harry Potter was shy and kind of boring, but he certainly didn't seem that way in the flesh. He was striding down the hallway with his hands clasped behind his back like a veteran Auror.

"I have met a few hundred witches during the past two years, but none of them had pink hair," Potter remarked.

"I'm a metamorphmagus."

"That's a strange word. Does it mean that you can alter your appearance without using Polyjuice Potion?"

Tonks nodded enthusiastically as her hair went from pink to black. "I'm the only one in Western Europe, and there are less than a dozen of us in the world."

Potter abruptly stopped walking, and she turned around to face him in the empty hallway. "Can you make your eyes larger?"

"It's kind of hard, but yes," She closed her eyes tightly and felt her sockets begin to expand by a few millimeters. In less than ten seconds she was done. "I'm quite talented if I do say so myself. The Aurors recruiters first approached me back during my fifth year at Hogwarts."

"Make your hair curly and longer. Down to your shoulders."

Before Tonks could stop and think about it she had complied with his forceful request. She knew the Boy-Who-Lived was only thirteen years-old, but at the moment he seemed much older.

"Darken the shade of your skin, and give it a slight brownish tint," Potter told her. "That's close enough. Now shorten the length of your nose and widen your chin a bit."

At this point Tonks wanted to stop the impromptu talent show, but the boy was studying her with such intensity that she couldn't find the courage to refuse his commands. And that's exactly what they were: commands.

Potter slowly stepped forward until he invaded her personal space. He then raised a hand towards her mouth. "Now form a sharp cupid's bow with your upper lip."

This was definitely going too far, and Tonks reached for her wand. But as fast as she was, Potter was faster. He grabbed her waist and bent it until her wand dropped to the floor. He than took hold of her other waist and slammed her up against the nearby wall. She was about to scream when she saw his green eyes. There wasn't any lust in them, a look she had come to recognize all too often during the past few years. No, there was only pain.

"Min," Potter whispered in anguish. After a moment he let her go, and repeatedly backed away until he ran into the far wall. "I'm so sorry Auror Tonks."

"You're sorry! If you weren't Harry bloody Potter I would be arresting you right now for assaulting an Auror! Right in the middle of the bloody Ministry of Magic no less!"

"I said that I was sorry," Potter snapped.

"Who is this "Min" person?" Tonks demanded. "Tell me the truth and it had better be good."

The question seemed to cause him physical pain. "She is dead."

"You're lying. She probably just some muggle girl you fantasize about while you're wanking."

Suddenly an unknown type of spell tightly squeezed every square centimeter of her body. This was casting on a level she couldn't hope to match, even if she had her wand. Which she didn't.

"If you ever talk that way about Min Farshaw again I will kill you," Potter snarled. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do," a frightened Tonks replied. At that moment she honestly believed the young wizard standing in front of her was capable of cold-blooded murder. "Now could you please let me go? It's sort of hard to breath like this."

Those words seem to hit Potter like a ton of bricks, and the magical bindings surrounding her suddenly disappeared. Tonks bent down to retrieve her lost wand, but when she turned to face the boy again he was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Harry Potter was furious. He was furious at himself for losing control like that. He was furious at that young Auror for not showing any backbone. He was furious about being trapped in this pathetically-short body. He was furious with Albus for making him play these stupid political games. Most of all he was furious with the Creator for taking him away from Min Farshaw, the only woman in his long life who had ever loved him unconditionally.

The Gateway he opened in the loo took him to a small tropical island off the coast of Central America. A month ago it had been one big malaria-infested swamp. That wouldn't do, so he had used Saidin to elevate the surface of the island by five meters and then set up a ward to drive away all the insects. Now it was quite pleasant. It was also far away from both Hogwarts and any nosy magical governments, which made it the ideal spot for his new Aes Sedai training academy.

"Lord Potter, we weren't expecting you today," Argus Flitch said as he came over to the clearly marked Traveling Grounds. A Gateway which opened in the wrong place could easily kill a person, so you were only allowed to travel to and from the island from that specific area.

The former Caretaker of Hogwarts looked like a changed man. He had shaved off his long ragged hair, and now worn muggle-style clothes and boots. He also insisted on using the title "Lord Potter", much to Harry's disgust.

"Summon the Argonauts."

"Yes, my Lord."

The Argonauts consisted of eight squibs who use to go drinking with Argus back in Hogsmeade. The men were all bachelors over the age of fifty, but they were still eager to learn how to channel. And Harry was eager to have loyal subordinates. Despite the positive relationship he had forged with Albus he still couldn't bring himself to trust the old wizard. In fact he often had terrible nightmares about being Obliviated and stripped of his newly regained ability to channel Saidin.

In a few minutes all the men had arrived, so he opened another Gateway. "Where are we going my Lord?" a squib who was close to eighty years-old asked.

"I need to send a message to my enemies."

The Gateway took them to a field a kilometer away from the Nott Estate. The sprawling mansion was the country seat of Stephen Nott, who had been a loyal Death Eater during the First Wizarding War. Dumbledore knew the man had taken part in several muggle massacres, but like Lucius Malfoy he had avoiding Azkaban thanks to the judicious use of bribes.

"I want you all to watch this closely: it's called Cloud Dancing."

Harry seized Saidin and began weaving Air, Fire, and Water on a massive scale. The puffy white clouds in the sky immediately turned pitch black. Out of these clouds came a dozen bolts of lightning which all struck the Nott Estate. The subsequent cracks of thunder were so powerful they knocked two of the Argonauts to the ground. Soon several fires broke out in several different parts of the mansion.

Rather than stay and watch Harry wove another Gateway, this one to house owned by the Death Eater Jeffery Goyle. There he repeated his attack, which caused another massive fire. In all, the Argonauts and their young leader visited a dozen properties that day. He even allowed the old squibs to try Cloud Dancing themselves. They rather enjoyed burning down the houses of prominent Death Eaters.

Not only were these attacks personally cathartic for Harry, but they also sowed a great deal of confusion around Britain. Were they being carried out by the new Scrimgeour Ministry, or were they the work of the prisoners who had recently escaped from Azkaban? No one would know for sure, and what's the way Harry wanted it.

* * *

"This course of action is insane," Albus remarked as they made their way undetected into the grim fortress of Nurmengard later that day.

"I was sent to into the past for a reason, and the fate of the world may depend on us finding out what that reason is. I've already trained several squibs, but now I have to find out what happens when a wizard uses the One Power and Wand Magic at the same time," Harry explained. "Besides, he is an old man and no one will care if he dies. Well, no one besides you."

"You won't be able to control him. He is one of the most dangerous Dark Wizards in history."

"And I am the Dragon Reborn. I have faced the Dark One himself in battle and emerged victorious. I refuse to be afraid of a wizard—any wizard."

"He will not be allow to stay anywhere near Hogwarts. If Aberforth discovered his presence my brother would kill him, or die in the attempt."

"The Argonauts will be acting as babysitters, and they are eight thousand kilometers from Hogwarts at the moment."

"I don't trust them either," Albus muttered. "Here we are."

Harry seized Saidin and carefully removed the heavy cell door. It was covered with ancient runes, but these meager defenses could not stop the One Power. Inside the cell they found more runes, and a decrepit old man lying in his own filth.

"Hello my dear Albus. Who's your handsome young friend?"

"His name is Harry Potter, and he would like to make you a very interesting offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"My old friend, he wants to save your soul."

The Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald threw his head back and laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

Narcissa glanced over at her sister and sighed—she couldn't believe they had been reduced to this. Two daughters of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black were sitting in a tree, searching for wild game in the middle of an Albanian forest. While wearing trousers. Only two things kept her from casting the Killing Curse on herself that very second: her love for Draco and her fear of Lucius' incompetence. As was so often the case, this disaster was all her husband's fault.

Attempting to destroy a blood traitor like Arthur Weasley was a perfectly acceptable pursuit for a pureblood aristocrat. Attempting to destroy a blood traitor by attacking his young daughter and endangering all the students of Hogwarts, including their son Draco, was not acceptable. Being caught by a trio of second-year Gryffindors was beyond the pale, yet that's exactly what happened to the fool.

To be fair Lucius couldn't have foreseen that the twelve year-old Harry Potter was capable of inciting a bloodthirsty mob with a single speech. However he should have had a back-up plan in case their Manor was destroyed. Not only had they lost more than half of their wealth in the fire, but Lucius' personal files had also gone up in smoke. Without the blackmail material and signed blood contracts he kept in those personal files, the Malfoy business empire had quickly fallen apart.

According to Lucius only one person was capable of restoring their lost wealth and political influence: the Dark Lord. He insisted that they make their way to Albania at once to begin searching for him. Narcissa had been unwilling to disrupt Draco's magical education at Hogwarts, so she left the boy with her sister Andromeda and that mudblood Ted Tonks. It was an awful solution, but letting him come to this horrid place would've been worse. And in her heart Narcissa knew Andromeda would keep Draco safe until the first of September.

"Be silent," Bellatrix whispered.

Finding her other sister and several of the Death Eaters from Azkaban waiting for them here in Albania had been a rude shock. Bellatrix wouldn't explain to Lucius how they had escaped from the island prison, or how they had travel across Europe so swiftly without being caught. The other Death Eaters were all terrified of her, and they also refused to give her husband any information.

Without warning a magical spear of fire appeared in Bellatrix's hand, and she leapt from their high tree perch. This spear stuck a wild boar Narcissa hadn't even seen a second ago, killing it instantly. This should have been impossible. Her older sister was a talented duelist and a picture of grace on the dance floor, but she had never once hunted anything besides muggles.

"Bring your Mokeskin pouch down here," she ordered while butchering the dead boar with her new form of wandless magic.

This was another impossibility. Bellatrix had spent her entire childhood and adolescence trying to master wandless magic, but she had always failed. Now after spending a decade being mentally tortured by the Dementors, her skill in this area surpassed that of Albus Dumbledore or even the Dark Lord himself.

"How in the name of Merlin are you doing that?"

Bellatrix paused and wiped a chunk of bloody intestine from her still-beautiful face. "We were taught by our professors at Hogwarts to control magic with wands and precise incantations, but they were so wrong. First you must surrender to Saidar. Only then can you guide its tremendous power in the direction you want. Only then will you feel the pleasure it can give you."

"Can you teach me about this Saidar?"

As soon as the words left her mouth Narcissa regretted them. Bellatrix had always been spiteful, but never more so than when she had something her little sisters wanted. She loved parading the toy or dress or necklace in front of them, and then destroying the object when she got bored with it. She was never willing to share anything of value, not even with the members of her own family.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to ask that question," a smiling Bellatrix said as she finished butchering the boar and placing the choice cuts of meat in the Mokeskin pouch. "We will begin your training tonight after dinner."

"You're so different now. What happened to you in Azkaban?" a gobsmacked Narcissa asked.

"I woke up," Bellatrix said cryptically. "Come, I have no doubt those lazy wizards are all starving for some freshly cooked boar."

Dealing with the other Death Eaters was the last thing Narcissa wanted to do at the moment. It had taken their joint group less than a month to find the Dark Lord, but she wished they hadn't. It was horrifying to discover that the greatest wizard in the world had been reduced to possessing random muggles to survive. Now thanks to Augustus Rookwood's help that was going to change. Or so the former Unspeakable claimed.

"Cissy, they have finally done it!" Lucius shouted when he saw them enter the large cave where they had been hiding for the past few weeks. "The Dark Lord is now strong enough to return to Britain. It's only a matter of time until he takes his vengeance against Potter and that muggle-loving fool Dumbledore. Soon the Malfoy Family will be restored to its rightful place of honor."

That's when she saw it. Lying on one of the makeshift cots was a hideously deformed baby. The body seemed normal enough, but the face was that of an ugly old man. Narcissa almost vomited before she regained her pureblood composure.

Although Bellatrix was hiding it well, she was also sickened by this... abomination. "He will have to eat something first, won't he?"

"That's true. How thoughtful of you to remember." Even coming from such a bizarre source were was no mistaking that cultured voice. "Come closer Bellatrix."

"What do you require of me?"

"First this new body does need nourishment, but afterwards you will give me a detailed explanation of your new abilities." The Dark Lord saw the anger flash in her black eyes and added: "Did you honestly believe that you could hide such important information from me?"

"I can not teach you what I know," Bellatrix said simply.

"And why is that?"

"Because you are a man."

The Dark Lord's repulsive little body shook with laughter. "Silly child, magic does not recognize the difference between a wizard and a witch. Both have always used the same spells."

"You are wrong," an unconcerned Bellatrix replied.

The temper of the Dark Lord was legendary among his Death Eaters, and Narcissa was expecting an explosion. But none came. In an instant the truth came to her: he was afraid of Bellatrix and her strange new abilities. All the wizards were afraid of her, including Lucius. Now more than anything in her life Narcissa wanted to learn about Saidar. She wanted the power that even a Dark Lord feared.

* * *

It was towards the end of August when Harry walked into the Shrieking Shack carrying his new sword in one hand and a bucket of golf balls in the other. The Old Course at St Andrews was quite lovely this time of year, and he had been tempted to play a round or two.

"You must be Mr Lupin."

"Harry Potter?" the man asked. He looked like one of those crack addicts you sometimes saw on the BBC or read about in the _Daily Mail_.

"Yes, I know: I have father's striking good looks and my mother's beautiful green eyes."

"Very true," Remus chuckled. "What are you doing here? No, it doesn't matter. You have to leave now."

"That would defeat the purpose of my visit, since I'm here to witness an authentic werewolf transformation. It's less than an hour until moonrise, and I'm excited to see what happens."

"Who told you about that?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry replied as he set the bucket down on the dusty wooden floor. "You might find it disturbing to know, but he's a bit infatuated with me at the moment."

"You're right, that is very disturbing," Remus admitted. "So Dumbledore thought it was a good idea for a third-year to be locked in the Shrieking Shack with a werewolf during a full moon? I guess he has finally gone senile. You still have to leave, I could never forgive myself if I harmed James and Lily's only child."

Harry drew his goblin-crafted sword from its plain leather scabbard. The curved blade glittered in fading sunlight, and you could just make out the elegant heron etched in the metal. "Trust me Mr Lupin, there is nothing you could do to harm me."

"I know that with Fawkes' help you killed that basilisk down in the Chamber of Secrets, but a fully grown werewolf is a much more agile opponent and the small size of this room will work against you."

Instead of answering Harry picked up one of the golf balls and tossed it in the air. Then with a simply flick of his sword he cut it in half. Perfectly in half. He repeated the trick five more times.

"You've some skill with a blade," Remus allowed.

"You might even say I'm a Blademaster. Take the bucket and start throwing the golf balls at me. It will be more of a challenge that way."

"If I manage to hit you with one of these will you please go back to Hogwarts for the night?"

"Sure, let's make a game out of it."

For the next ten minutes Remus tried but failed to hit Harry. Considering that they were less than two meters apart this was a great shock for the werewolf. In desperation he started using the half pieces, but the boy just cut them into perfect quarters.

"How do you learn to do that at your age?"

"It's a long story, and one I have no plan on telling you just yet," Harry replied as he sheathed his sword with casual grace.

"Please listen to me, you have no idea of what a werewolf is capable of. A sword won't be able to stop me.

Harry rolled his eyes, and took out his new "wand". It was just a bit of driftwood he found floating in the Black Lake, but hopefully it would be enough to fool the other students. He wove a powerful shield with Saidin and then gestured wildly with the fake wand for a few seconds. He even mumbled some obscure Pig Latin under his breath. It was a clumsy performance, but he really didn't care.

Remus was an intelligent man. He knew exactly what Harry wanted, so he walked towards the invisible shield. Upon contact it sent him flying back across the room. It took the wizard a full minute to regain his senses.

"You cast an impressive Shield Charm."

"You have no idea," Harry said dryly. "As you can see I'll be perfectly safe tonight, so why don't you tell me what happens when the full moon comes out?"

"I have never watched the transformation from the prospective of an outsider, but according to others my body starts to both stretch and contract in various ways until I take on the shape of a werewolf. The process is excruciating, but hopefully the Wolfsbane Potion I've been given will mitigate the pain."

"Were you born this way?"

"No, I was infected at age six by a sadistic werewolf named Fenrir Greyback," Remus explained. "He bites as many children as he can in hopes of building a loyal army of werewolves.

"So this isn't a magical curse at all, but rather an infectious disease of some sort. Like the AIDS virus the muggles are having so much trouble with nowadays."

"That's what my parents believed at first. They spent years looking for a cure, but they never found it. No one has."

"There isn't a cure now, but the situation might change in the future," Harry pointed out. "One must always keep hope alive."

Remus frowned. "Are you really Harry Potter? Because you don't sound like any thirteen year-old I've met before."

The pair continued chatting until the moon finally made its appearance. Harry had to admit the transformation looked painful. Remus' body was ripped apart from the inside, and then put back together in a new shape. The Wolfsbane Potion seemed to be working. Instead of lashing out like a wild animal, the werewolf just plopped down on the floor and quickly went to sleep.

The whole process was very disappointing. Harry had hoped that some external influences were involved, but he had seen nothing to indicate that. He was tempted to use Saidin on the sleeping beast, but decided against it. While Lews Therin had been the most powerful Aes Sedai in the Age of Legends, he was mediocre at best when it came to healing. Instead he wove several protective wards and soon fell asleep himself.

* * *

"So, are you ready for your first staff meeting?" Harry asked the next morning as they made their way to Hogwarts.

"No." Remus answered curtly.

"That's too bad, because the Minister of Magic is going to be here today to discuss security arrangements for the coming year. You were hired specifically to capture Sirius Black, and I suspect you'll have to answer a few questions."

Remus was silent until they reached the Caretaker's Office on the first floor. "What do you know about Sirius Black?"

"Everything. Argus in particular had a great deal to tell me."

"The former Caretaker, that Argus Flitch? I hope you don't believe everything he told you. He was a nasty piece of work."

"Silly me, I thought a werewolf would have some compassion for the plight of a squib living here at Hogwarts," Harry remarked. "But then compassion was never a strong suit for the fabled Marauders."

Remus had been trying on one of his new robes, but now he turned around to glare at the teenager. "Why do I have the feeling I'm being judged and found wanting?"

"Personally I am not afraid of Black or any of his fellow Death Eaters, but I am afraid that the innocent children here at Hogwarts could be hurt if they attack the school. So what I need to know is do you have the intestinal fortitude to stand up to your former pack leader?"

"You can rest assured that if I see the traitor, I will kill him. You have my solemn word."

"Good, I plan on holding you to that," Harry replied. "Now we should report to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. I hope Director Bones is attending this meeting, she is quite the dish."

In turns out that Amelia was present, but the Director of Magical Law Enforcement was wasn't in a good mood. "I must object in the strongest terms possible to Mr Potter's presence. As a third-year student he has no business being here."

"But Director Bones, I will be the Death Eaters' primary target if they make it inside the castle."

"Young man, that is a very conceited statement."

"It's the truth."

"Is that why you had the goblins make that ridiculous sword you're wearing?" Amelia asked.

"It's not ridiculous, it's a masterpiece."

"I have often found that boys who play with such toys are overcompensating for their other shortcomings."

"Amelia, stop trying to bait him," Scrimgeour barked. He had been very protective of Harry since their first meeting, and it was clear that the new Minister of Magic was angling for a long-term political alliance with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Now back to the matter at hand: Fudge and those other armchair Aurors in the Wizengamot suggested that we use the Dementors as guards here at Hogwarts, but I vetoed the idea. Somehow the Death Eaters were able to bypass the creatures when they escaped from Azkaban, so they would be useless."

"And impossible to control," Albus added.

"Emmeline Vance has volunteered to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year," Chief Auror Shacklebolt told them as he consulted a piece of parchment full of notes. 'We are also assigning Auror-trainee Nymphadora Tonks to the school. She will be impersonating the Flying Instructor Rolanda Hooch, but only the people in this room will be aware of her true identity."

"It goes against my better judgment to allow a werewolf to work here at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore assures me that you can be trusted Mr Lupin," Scrimgeour said. "You should know that you will be watched closely. Both Vance and Tonks have my personal permission to use deadly force if you cause any problems during the full moon."

"I understand." Remus hesitated before adding: "There is something else you should all know: Sirius Black is an unregistered animagus. He takes the form of a large dog, a Grim actually."

"That's preposterous," Scrimgeour snapped. "A pureblood scoundrel like Black lacks the self-discipline needed to become an animagus."

"It true. Sirius, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew all managed to become animagi during our time here at Hogwarts."

"They wanted to keep an eye on you during the full moon," Amelia reasoned. "It's the kind of reckless behavior you Gryffindors are famous for."

"Don't you mean notorious for?" Harry suggested.

"Are the wards surrounding Hogwarts capable of detecting a wizard or witch in their animagus form?" a concerned Shacklebolt asked the Headmaster.

"No, they are not," Albus replied.

That isn't what the Minister of Magic wanted to hear. "Damn it Dumbledore, I thought you spent the summer strengthen those bloody wards?"

In truth, it was Harry who had spent the summer strengthen the castle's defenses. He was still cautious when it came to working with "magic", but only a handful of Aes Sedai in history had ever matched his skill when it came to creating wards. If Sirius Black or Tom Riddle wanted to capture Hogwarts the attempt would almost certainly cost them their lives.

"I will have to research the matter, but I'm sure we can work something out," Albus told the Minister. "In the meantime we'll just have to be on the lookout for a wandering Grim."

Shacklebolt continued with his briefing. "We have finished building the new Field Office in Hogsmeade, and it will be staffed with eight Aurors at all times. If the Death Eaters attack the village our people should be able to hold out until reinforcements arrive from London."

"Those Aurors are there to protect Hogsmeade, not the school." Scrimgeour interjected. "Hogwarts is easily the best defended site in all of Britain... if the Headmaster is focused on doing his job. It's clear to me that during the past few years you've been negligent, but that's a state of affairs I'm no longer willing to tolerate. Is that clear?"

"Rufus, you aren't being reasonable."

"Nonsense Dumbledore. I'm giving you two talented witches to bolster your defenses, but that's all the Ministry of Magic can spare until we begin graduating more Aurors."

"And I'm afraid that even with the extra galleons they've been given by the Wizengamot a new batch of Aurors is still eighteen months away," Amelia told them. "For the time being we will have to make do with our current numbers."

Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "Moving on. Adding extra security to the Hogwarts Express next week is going to be a logistical nightmare."

* * *

"I was impressed with Minister Scrimgeour," Harry told Albus as they stepped through a Gateway from Hogwarts to the Academy.

The tropical weather was a welcome relief from the dreary Highlands, but the six-hour time difference was starting to play havoc with his sleep cycle. With Harry's guidance the Argonauts had built a respectable little village here on the island, albeit a Paleolithic one. The various buildings were all constructed out of stone.

"Rufus is a power-mad, would-be tyrant," Albus muttered.

"Don't be petulant. He's just doing his job, and he was right about how you have neglected Hogwarts."

The Headmaster's gloomy face lit up as they approached the Greek-style amphitheater Harry had cut into the bedrock of the Academy. Gellert Grindelwald was standing at the base of the theater as he lectured Argonauts, who were seated all around him. It was hard to believe this was the same frail old man they had found in a prison cell less than a month ago. Learning how to channel Saidin had given former Dark Lord a new lease on life.

"Here is our illustrious leader now."

Harry struck instantly. He wove a shield of Spirit to cut Gellert off from Saidin, but Inverted the weave so that no one could see how he was doing it. He then channeled Earth and encased the wizard's body in a solid piece of rock. Only his head and right arm were left free.

"Argus, thank you for keeping an eye on this troublemaker for me," Harry said, as he and Albus descended into the amphitheater.

"He might be a Dark Lord, but the bastard sure is a good teacher. He understands Saidar better than any of us squibs."

"Perhaps. You and the men are dismissed for the day."

"Yes, Lord Potter."

Once the Argonauts were gone Harry turned to Albus. "I want you to use Legilimency on him. If he fights against your mental probe or lies about the smallest detail, he dies."

"I must say Potter, you are nothing like your mentor," a smiling Gellert remarked as he voluntarily locked eyes with Albus. Even imprisoned in a tomb of rock he still projected an image of strength and confidence. Unlike his former lover, this man was a natural-born leader.

"First off, do you know of any magical defenses we could use against an animagus?" Harry asked.

"No, which is why every magical government in the world insists that animagi register as soon as they master the human-to-animal transformation. They make formidable spies, and governments hate spies they have no control over."

"Do you plan on killing me?" Harry asked.

"Of course not." Gellert answered as he continued to stare into Albus' blue eyes. "Your vast knowledge of the One Power makes you a priceless asset. Killing you would be the height of folly."

"He's telling you the truth. He now views you as a messianic leader who will succeed in bring about his long-cherished dream of a unified world."

"Our long-cherished dream, my dear Albus. You can lie to others, maybe even to yourself, but I have always known what's in your heart."

"You two have studied the relationship between magic and the One Power for the past month. Do you have any new theories to share with me?"

"As far as we have been able to determine the One Power is magic, and magic is the One Power," Gellert replied. "The only difference is the manner in which they are manipulated by the two genders."

"The One Power is a form of energy controlled by the human mind," Albus added. "There must some physiological aspect unique to males which allows us to channel Saidin. In some unknown way females are different since they channel Saidar. It's logical to assume what we know as "magic" is controlled by a third part of the mind which is common to both genders."

Harry silently swore. That was the same bloody conclusion he had reached three months ago. "So what will happen when I give you a new wand? Would you still be able to cast spells?"

"Theories and speculation can only take us so far," Gellert remarked. "At this point an actual experiment is our only real option."

"This kind of experimentation could easily kill you," Harry pointed out.

"Please refrain from insulting my intelligence in the future. We both know this is why you freed me from Nurmengard in the first place. Give me a wand, and let us be done with it."

"Albus, I would like you to block all forms of magical transport. Then give him your spare wand."

Gellert hesitated as Albus placed a battered piece of wood in his free hand. "I would prefer my old wand, if it's not too much trouble."

"Please refrain from insulting my intelligence in the future," Harry snapped. "I know all about the so-called Elder Wand, and if you try to reclaim it I will kill you."

"Do you have any requests or suggestions for me?"

"Try a basic light spell."

Again Gellert hesitated. Then he took a deep breath and said in a loud voice: "Lumos!"

Harry couldn't decide which was worse: the screams of agony, or all the blood flowing from the man's ears and eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

With ten Death Eaters on the loose, Minister Scrimgeour was concerned about the prospect of an attack on the Hogwarts Express. As a result security at King's Cross Station was much tighter than usual. There were no Aurors present though, since they were all guarding the long train route from London to Hogsmeade on racing brooms. Instead the Minister had assigned just one wizard to protect the famous Platform nine and three-quarters: Albus Dumbledore. Both Director Bones and Chief Auror Shacklebolt agreed that his presence alone was enough to deter any possible threat.

"Why are you so miserable?" a bleary-eyed Harry asked. The two had arrived in London at four o'clock this morning to perform a magical security sweep. "I'm almost positive that Gellert didn't suffer any permanent damage. He should be back on his feet in a week or two. Or three."

"I'm not thinking about Gellert, I'm thinking about the future," Albus replied in a soft whisper. "The Hogwarts Express, Diagon Alley, our entire way of life. It is all doomed."

"Are you always this melodramatic?" Harry grumbled.

For some reason his skin had been covered with goosebumps for the past ten minutes, and it was starting to become annoying. If he didn't know better, he would say a woman was channeling Saidar somewhere nearby. Luckily the crowd was so intimidated by the sight of Albus Dumbledore and the Boy-Who-Lived standing together that no one attempted to engage them in idle conversation.

"Harry, you have told me yourself that in the distant future there are no wizards or witches, and now we know why. Magic and the One Power are simply incompatible."

"That is speculation, and you know it. We have only conducted one minor experiment."

"Gellert was bleeding from his ears and eyes," a concerned Albus replied. "When I spoke with him yesterday he told me the pain was equivalent to that of a lengthy Cruciatus Curse. The mere thought of picking up a magical wand again terrifies him."

"We will discuss this subject later. The Grangers are here."

"Harry!" Hermione yelled when she saw him.

After passing her father a large animal container the young witch rushed into his waiting arms. Unlike the old Harry, the new Harry had no problem hugging his friends. This simply gesture was more than enough to make Hermione to blush. He made a mental note to be on the lookout for any schoolgirl crushes—no doubt they were going to be a problem for him this year.

"Headmaster, what are you doing here today?"

"I'm just making sure all my students make it aboard the Hogwarts Express without any difficulties," he explained. "Mr Granger, Mrs Granger. So good to meet you both."

Hermione realized that she hadn't made the proper social introductions. "Mother, Father, this is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

Mr Granger had been studying Harry with open hostility, and now he turned to face Albus. It was clear the man was still upset that his baby girl had been petrified last year. "I may be mistaken, but I don't recall Gandalf ever wearing fuchsia robes."

"Father!" a mortified Hermione hissed.

"It's quite alright Miss Granger," an amused Albus told her. "Back when John was writing _The Hobbit_ he felt the need to tone down my image a bit. Britain was a very conservative place during the thirties, and grey robes seemed more appropriate for a wise and benevolent wizard."

"So Tolkien actually based the character of Gandalf on you?" Mrs Granger asked in amazement.

"Who better to serve as a role model for an aspiring fantasy author? After all, Headmaster Dumbledore is the preeminent wizard of modern times." Harry explained.

"No, I afraid he chose me because I was fellow Limey," Albus deadpanned.

Mr Granger wasn't willing to give up just yet. "Potter, is there some particular reason you are wearing a samurai sword?"

"It's not a samurai sword, and I'm wearing it in case I need to deal with any random monsters," Harry told Hermione's father. He wasn't about to kowtow to a dentist. "We have all sorts at Hogwarts: brainwashed basilisks, man-eating acromantulas, xenophobic centaurs, and of course Hermione's personal favorite: gigantic mountain trolls."

The mention of trolls caused Hermione to panic. She quickly opened the container her father was carrying, and pulled out a fluffy orange... thing. "My parents brought me this beautiful cat when we went shopping in Diagon Alley last month. His name is Crookshanks."

"Miss Granger, I do believe that your new familiar is a half-Kneazle," Albus remarked as he studied the beast.

This distraction worked. The Grangers were fascinated to learn that Crookshanks was more intelligent than most people, and that he would attack anyone hostile to Hermione. After a few minutes Albus had them convinced that their daughter would be perfectly safe at Hogwarts during the coming school year. Harry had to admit the old wizard was a talented politician when he bothered to make the effort.

Much to his amazement the Weasleys arrived at King's Cross Station early that September. Ginny ran into his arms just like Hermione and she also blushed just like Hermione. Thanks to Hedwig the pair had exchanged letters all summer, and Harry thought she had outgrown her childish infatuation with the Boy-Who-Lived. No such luck.

According to Ginny's many letters the Burrow had been a madhouse this summer, even more so than usual. After the events in the Chamber of Secrets Arthur and Molly started treating their only daughter like a two-year old, and she was sick of it. Ron become impossible arrogant after being awarded the Order of Merlin, and Percy was constantly reminding everyone that he was the new Head Boy of Hogwarts. Fred and George preferred being the center of attention, so they retaliated by pranking their two brothers mercilessly.

There was also the fact that Arthur had won a large sum of galleons in the Daily Prophet's annual lottery, and had planned on taking the family to Egypt. Thanks to a timely intervention by Albus, Harry had been able to secretly derail that foolish idea. Instead Ron and Ginny received new wands from Ollivander's, while Percy was allowed to pick out his own personal owl. The five youngest Weasleys also had new school books and robes for a change. Still, the ungrateful brats were upset at being denied such an exciting vacation.

Because of all this drama Harry decided to open with a neutral question. "So Ron, how is your new wand?"

"Brilliant! It's fourteen inches with a unicorn hair core, and it works really well with my magic."

"Do you write to Professor McGonagall and change your class schedule?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but I still can't believe we are taking four electives."

"Cheer up! Just think about all the time you'll get to spend in the library with Hermione."

"Does our little baby brother have a crush on Gryffindor's biggest bookworm?" Fred or George asked when they saw Ron blush. Harry couldn't tell which twin was speaking, but either way he found it exasperating.

"At least Ron still has some self-respect. I've seen the way you two follow Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet around like a pair of whipped dogs."

After hearing this tasty bit of gossip Molly dragged the twins off by the ear, and gave them an embarrassing lecture about their inappropriate behavior.

"Ron, why don't you go find the compartment where Hermione is sitting." Harry suggested. "I'll come and join you in a few minutes."

Just as the Express was getting ready to leave, one last student came walking through hidden portal with his school trunk. It was Draco Malfoy, and Harry was shocked to see that he was dress like an authentic muggle. The pureblood had on red-and-white trainers, blue jeans, and an old David Bowie concert t-shirt.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry was so busy staring at Draco's outfit that he ignored this question. Well, at least he did until the inquiring witch slapped him across the face. And it wasn't a love tap either.

"What the flaming hell was that for?" he asked while rubbing his burning cheek.

"I don't know what you did to Nymphadora, but if you so much as look at her the wrong way again I will cast a Reductor Curse on your testicles. Do you understand me?" The tall, brown-haired witch didn't wait for his answer. Instead she just turned around in an imperious manner, and walked away without another word.

"I hate wearing these disgusting muggle rags, but seeing you get slapped in the face by my Aunt Andromeda made it all worth it," a smiling Draco told him. "Thanks for the show Scarhead."

Albus looked over at Harry, and arched one of his white eyebrows. "And to think that Andromeda Tonks was considered the kindest of the three Black Sisters."

* * *

High in the iron trusses above King's Cross Station, an invisible Bellatrix was watching the scene below play out. Narcissa swore that Dumbledore would be able to detect her presence, but the old fool was blind to the power of Saidar. Rand al'Thor was the real threat. The boy was rubbing his arms, which meant he knew a woman was channeling. Strangely though, he did nothing.

Seeing Andromeda after all these years was terribly confusing for Bellatrix. She had hated her sister for marrying that filthy mudblood Ted Tonks, but now that hatred seemed foolish to her. Nothing was more important than the bonds of blood, nothing.

"...what you did to Nymphadora..."

Nymphadora? That was the name of Andromeda's only child, and if Bellatrix remembered correctly the witch was a budding metamorphmagus. Such a prize would drive any teenage boy mad with lust, but Rand al'Thor was no ordinary teenage boy. Surely he hadn't forced himself on an unwilling witch? The very idea seemed insane.

No, she was insane one here. His bloody name was Harry Potter, yet when she thought of him it was as Rand al'Thor. Seeing him in the flesh only made the problem worse. The boy was twenty-five years her junior, yet the desire... the need to be with him was almost overwhelming.

How in the name of Merlin could she feel this way about a total stranger?

Bellatrix would find no answers today, not with Albus Dumbledore standing next to the boy. She could successfully hold one of them off in a duel, but not both of them at the same time. Once the Hogwarts Express left the Station she opened a Gateway to Little Hangleton high in the air above the Platform. She was growing disillusioned with the Dark Lord's erratic leadership, but as a younger witch she had swore to follow his banner... for as long as he lived. If the fool intended to face Rand al'Thor in battle, then that might not be a problem for much longer.

* * *

"You must be the Luna Lovegood I've heard so much about," Harry said as he entered the train compartment where Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. The fourth passenger was a petite witch with long blonde hair and enormous grey eyes. Ginny had written about Luna and her tragic past this summer in one of her epic letters.

"And you must be the Harry Potter everyone hears so much about."

"Unfortunately I am. Do you have a new issue of the _Quibbler_ for sale?"

Luna gave him a warm smile, and took out a copy of her father's tabloid from one of the pockets of her ill-fitting robes. "That will be one silver sickle."

Hermione harrumphed as only she could. "Honestly, you aren't actually going to buy..."

That was a far as she got before Harry pinned her back against the red cushions with a malevolent glare. He also gave Ron and Ginny a silent warning, and they wisely kept their mouths shut.

"Thank you, Luna. I'm looking forward to reading about the Rotfang Conspiracy and its negative influence on The Ministry of Magic's foreign policy."

After that introduction the long trip north was enjoyable. This year's more relaxed Ginny was very chatty, and Luna had a gift for non sequiturs which infuriated Hermione. There was also a brief fight between Crookshanks and Scabbers the lazy rat, but even that couldn't dampen the positive mood of his bookish friend.

Harry shared Hermione's excitement about the coming school year, but Ron was nervous. That was understandable since the third-years were taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Divination, and Care of Magical Creatures as electives. For the first time in a long time Harry had no idea what to expect, since his knowledge of the One Power was useless in these classes. Divination in particular sounded interesting, given that he was the focus of so many prophecies during his three lives.

"What do you mean you're not taking Transfiguration anymore?" Ron asked some time later. "It's a mandatory class for all Hogwarts students until you reach your sixth-year."

"For some reason Headmaster Dumbledore has volunteered to give me private lessons in the subject."

That was a lie. Harry felt guilty about deceiving his friends, but he had no choice if he wanted to keep his channeling a secret. While he could fake his way through Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was impossible for him to replicate magical transfigurations with the One Power. He also found it difficult to stomach Minerva and her condescending attitude.

Harry began asking Luna what life was like as a Ravenclaw. From her evasive answers he could tell that something was wrong, and after some gentle prodding the story came pouring out of her. The other Ravenclaws mocked her unorthodox beliefs, and they had even nicked some of her belongings. The poor girl was so unhappy about returning to Hogwarts that she started to cry. He quickly wrapped her in his arms—the situation reminded him far too much of his childhood with the Dursleys.

"Don't worry," Ginny declared. "Harry saved me from a giant basilisk. He can save you from some daft Ravenclaws."

"That will only make things worse!" Luna wailed.

"I'm going have a word with your housemates," Harry promised her. "This nonsense will stop, or I will bring Ravenclaw Tower crashing down on their oversized heads. And I mean that literally."

Luna eventually stopped crying, but she refused to let go of him until they reached Hogsmeade. He didn't mind. As they made their way towards the waiting carriages, she started telling him about the unusual properties of the Thestrals. Sadly this is when Remus Lupin came running down the pathway from Hogwarts. Harry had tried his hardest, but he just couldn't warm-up to the new Caretaker of Hogwarts.

"Headmaster Dumbledore wants to speak with you straight away! We caught Sirius Black hiding in the Forbidden Forest!"

* * *

Rather than expose a school full of child to such a dangerous criminal, the Aurors were holding the Death Eater in Hagrid's hut. Before they reached the small stone building Albus came out to meet them. He had returned to Hogwarts early for some much-needed rest before the Welcoming Feast, but that plan hadn't worked out very well.

"Remus, I need to speak with Mr Potter alone." The Headmaster then cast a number of complex privacy spells once the werewolf was a safe distance away.

"Is there some sort of problem I should know about?" Harry asked.

"Yes, there is. Sirius Black claims that he was never a Death Eater, and that he is innocent of all the charges against him."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Most criminals say the same thing when they are first captured by the authorities."

"Normally I would agree with you, but Mr Black told me several very interesting facts about how the Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban. He claims that it was all the work of Bellatrix Lestrange. She killed the twelve guards without a wand. She then opened a "hole in the air" which allowed her and other Death Eaters to leave the island. Again, she did this without using a wand."

"A "hole in the air"—those were his exact words?"

"I asked him the question several times in several different ways. His Occlumency shields are all but nonexistent, and I believe he's telling me the truth."

"If he is innocent why did he bother to coming here to Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Why not just leave Britain once and for all?"

"Sirius claims that the Death Eaters left on a mission find their former master. He also claims that your personal safety is his only real concern," Albus explained. "The man was James Potter's best friend for over a decade and you are officially his godson. So his explanation does make sense... if he is indeed innocent."

Harry quickly came to a decision. "I need to speak with him without any of the Aurors present, and you'll have to cast a Memory Charm on him once the interrogation is over. Can you manage that?"

"I believe so. Minister Scrimgeour is in Paris at a diplomatic conference, and he wouldn't be back in the country for a few hours. This won't take long, will it?"

"Five minutes at the most."

Albus drew his wand and was about to cancel his privacy spells when he suddenly stopped. "You seem ready to believe the man, even though he is accused of betraying your parents. Why is that?"

Harry grimaced. "Yesterday I would have dismissed him without a second thought, but this morning there was another Aes Sedai present at King's Cross Station. A female Aes Sedai."

"Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"I have no way of knowing who it was, but someone was channeling Saidar. I find it hard to believe this is simply a coincidence."

It took Albus a few minutes to bamboozle the Aurors, but soon they were the only two people left in the stone hut with the prisoner. Sirius was sitting on Hagrid's bed with his hands and feet bound by rune-inscribed manacles. He looked even worse than Remus had before the full moon.

"So you're innocent."

"It sounds absurd when you say it like that," Sirius admitted. "I can't believe how much you look like James."

Harry silently studied the scruffy wizard for a few moments. An unexpected shock was his best option, so he seized Saidin and opened a Gateway to the Academy. When Sirius saw the "hole in the air" appear his reaction was too sudden and too intense to be faked.

"That is exactly what Trixie did!" he shouted hysterically.

Once the Gateway was closed Harry asked: "Did you see any other examples of her wandless magic?"

"She killed one of the other Death Eaters with this odd spear. It looked like it was made out of real fire, but it didn't burn her hand. She used it to cut that poor bastard in half."

Harry channeled Fire and a perfect copy of his new sword appeared in his hand. It was also made completely out of a reddish fire.

By now Sirius was frightened, and he tried backing away from his godson. "How is he doing all of this Dumbledore? He is only a third-year!"

"I have what I need. Please Obliviate him. A stunner would also be helpful right about now," Harry added.

The two spells were cast with a speed that belied Albus' apparent exhaustion. "Do you believe that Lestrange is truly an Aes Sedai?" the old wizard asked afterwards.

"That would be a logical assumption to make. The ability to open even the smallest Gateway is a sign of great strength and skill."

"This is a complete disaster. A tremendous amount of power is now in the hands of a witch fanatically loyal to Tom Riddle, and one who lacks any semblance of morality."

Harry shook his head. "You must understand that Lestrange is no longer the same person you once knew. No one alive could have taught her how to channel Saidar, which means she has new memories of the future just as I do. The important question to ask is who do those memories belong to? On a more positive note, I doubt even one of the Forsaken would be willing to serve to a fool like Tom Riddle," he added with a wry smile.

"Will you be able to stop her?" Albus asked.

"Even if Lestrange can train twelve other witches how to channel and form a circle, I can still crush her. But like the old saying goes: quantity has a quality all of its own. Any battle between the two sides would be ugly, and I fear the collateral damage would be impossible to hide from the muggles. I know you disapprove of them, but we need to begin recruiting more Argonauts immediately."

A defeated Albus Dumbledore could only nod his head in acceptance. Harry empathized with the poor wizard. With both male and female Aes Sedai roaming about Britain, the magical world he had protected and guided for the past fifty years really was doomed.


	7. Chapter 7

"What do you mean you're not playing Quidditch this year?" Oliver Wood bellowed. "We're a shoo-in for the Cup! You can't break-up the best Quidditch team Hogwarts has seen in years!"

This outburst caught the attention of the entire Gryffindor common room, and Harry soon found himself surrounded by a pack of angry lions. He wasn't in the mood for this sort of nonsense, so he seized Saidin and drew his fake wand. Then he shook the stone floor with a radiating burst of Earth—in truth he shook the entire castle.

That shut them all up.

"I'm taking private lessons with Headmaster Dumbledore, which means I don't have time for Quidditch this year. Luckily I've found a suitable replacement for you: Ginny Weasley," Harry explained as he gently pushed the nervous little redhead forward.

"Gin-Gin doesn't even have a broom, so how can she be our new Seeker?" Fred or George asked.

Harry responded to this snide comment by hanging the twins from the ceiling by their feet. He thought about stripping them naked, but the sight of all pasty white skin would have been too traumatizing for the younger students.

"Miss Weasley will be using my Nimbus Two-thousand broom. I've seen her flying with it, and she is almost as good as me."

Everyone was staring up at the twins, but Oliver finally found the nerve to speak. "A new Seeker sounds like a great idea. Welcome to the team Ginny."

"Good, I'm glad that's settled."

Three minutes later Professor McGonagall came barging into the common room. "What in the name of Merlin is going on here, and why are the Weasleys hanging from the ceiling?"

Instead of answering her Harry turned to address his housemates. "How many of you have been pranked by the twins?" Almost everyone raised their hands, even some of the first-years who had only been at Hogwarts for a day. "I thought our two merry troublemakers needed to be taught a lesson, and it looks like I was right."

"Be that as it may Mr Potter, you will cancel your spell at once."

Again Harry drew his fake wand, and the twins dropped to the floor. The sound of their cracking bones was quite audible, but they were too terrified to scream.

"I trust I've made my point?"

"Mr Potter, you will accompany me to the Headmaster's office," McGonagall hissed. She looked seconds away from a brain aneurysm.

Harry left the common room without another word. But instead of heading towards the Headmaster's office he began walking in the opposite direction. The old witch tried to engage him in conversation, but he ignored her until they reached Professor Flitwick's office. The door had some impressive wards on it, but he cut through them with a minimal amount of effort.

"Professor Flitwick, I would like to have a word with you."

"Minerva, what is this all about?" the Charms Professor asked they entered his office.

"I have no idea Filius," she replied tersely.

"It's about Luna Lovegood," Harry told them. "Are either of you aware of the fact that she personally witnessed her mother's death three years ago? Or that she has received a constant stream of abuse from the other Ravenclaws from the moment she was sorted last year?"

Flitwick had the grace to look ashamed. "Mr Potter, a certain amount of bullying is an unfortunate part of adolescence. There are less than a dozen Professors at Hogwarts, and we can't protect the personal feelings of every single student."

"Is that how you excuse the behavior of Fred and George Weasley?" Harry asked Professor McGonagall. "That their cruel and vicious pranks are just something the other students have to learn to live with? Is that why you did nothing to discipline my father and his friends when they were running amok back during the seventies?"

If McGonagall was angry before, she was absolutely furious now. Shockingly she drew her wand, but Harry had been waiting for something like this. With a dozen perfectly controlled weaves of Air he broke the witch's wrist, snatched her wand, and levitated her a meter in the air. He did the exact same thing to Professor Flitwick at the exact same time. It took him less than two seconds.

"Since you both insist on being so obtuse, let me spell it out for you. Tom Riddle has returned, and Headmaster Dumbledore is too weak to defeat him. That means I have to kill the bastard. I'm no longer just another ordinary student here at Hogwarts, and I refuse to be treated like one. So from now on if I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed."

"I will have you expelled for this!" McGonagall shrieked.

"No, you won't," Harry replied as he tossed their wands on the floor. "Put a leash on the twins or a few broken bones will be the least of their worries. And I expect the harassment of Miss Lovegood to stop at once. Don't disappoint me Professor Flitwick. If I have to deal with your Ravenclaws myself, it will be extremely unpleasant for all concerned."

* * *

After that wonderful start, Harry's first week at school just got worse and worse. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were acceptable classes. Professor Vector and Professor Babbling were both well-trained professionals whose in-depth knowledge of magical theory impressed him. He even shocked Hermione by asking dozens of questions during each class, and both professors were happy to teach such an eager student.

On the other hand Divination was a disaster from the start. Professor Trelawney was a frustrated oracle and a raging alcoholic, and these traits made her class intolerable. Care of Magical Creatures was almost as bad. Hagrid understood his subject well enough, but he lacked the verbal skills needed to share that knowledge with his confused students. And the less that was said about the History of Magic, the better.

However the real low point of the week was definitely Potions. Harry partnered with Neville Longbottom, and was shocked to see Professor Snape sabotage their potion by placing some unknown ingredient in their cauldron. The master Slytherin didn't even try to be subtle about it.

Rather than make a scene Harry just left the classroom, and made his way to the Headmaster's office. The stone gargoyle guarding the door jumped aside the moment he came into view. Fawkes took one look at him when he entered the office, and promptly disappeared in a ball of flames.

"I don't see how you can inspire such fear in a phoenix. According to legend they are immortal," Albus remarked as Harry flopped down in one of the plush leather chairs.

"Is there a magical treatment for alcoholism?"

"There are certain potions which can moderate a patient's drinking, but Professor Trelawney has been reluctant to admit that she has a problem. The healers can't go forward without her consent."

"Then somehow convince her to start treatment," Harry replied. "You also need to appoint Remus Lupin as Hagrid's assistant. Tell him that Remus will handle all the tedious paperwork, which will leave him free to concentrate on caring for the various magical creatures. Hagrid will buy that explanation coming from you. Then arrange for Professor Binns to move on to wherever ghosts move on to, and hire a competent replacement. Finally—and this one is the most important—get rid of Snape. If he is still in the castle tomorrow morning I'm going to kill him in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast."

Albus leaned back in his chair, and thought about these suggestions for a moment. "I can agree to everything expect the last. Severus must stay here at Hogwarts."

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You told me yourself that he is the one who gave the Prophecy to Tom Riddle. He is responsible for the death of my parents, and for what happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom. Despite that, he purposely sabotaged Neville's potion just ten minutes ago. The boy's parents are drooling vegetables because of his actions, yet the piece-of-shit feels free to harass and abused their son."

"That is all true," Albus conceded. "But if I force Severus to leave Hogwarts his allegiance will shift back to Tom, and we will lose our spy."

"Spies are of limited use in a war of this nature."

"Do you honestly believe that defeating Tom and Bellatrix will be so easy that we can afford to just throw away a valuable tool like Severus?"

"The day Tom Riddle shows his face here at Hogwarts will be his last day on Earth," Harry replied coldly. "And I've told you before that dealing with Lestrange won't be a problem."

"Your overconfidence is beginning to trouble me."

Harry's green eyes finally snapped open. "I stood First among the Servants. I wore the Ring of Tamyrlin and sat in the High Seat. I alone had the authority to summon the Nine Rods of Dominion from around the globe. I was the de facto ruler of the entire human race. You Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore have never been anything more than the leader of a small provincial community. Do not presume to question my judgment. Snape leaves Hogwarts tonight or he dies."

The wizard bowed his head in submission. "As you wish."

"Our primary concern is the fact that Hogwarts sits on top of the Dark One's prison," Harry said as he stood to leave. "Compared to that, the fate of Severus Snape is irrelevant. Compared to that, the existence of a single female Aes Sedai is irrelevant."

* * *

As Bellatrix looked over the assembled crowd of purebloods she had to fight back a sense of nausea. If the Dark Lord was to achieve his long-term goals he would need a strong base of support, but she doubted they would find that support here. These wizards and witches were lazy and weak. A majority of them would probably starve to death if their house elves ever disappeared. Still, they had to make the effort. To that end her brother-in-law had organized a secret meeting here in Sheffield to gather potential allies.

"Do expect us to believe that Rufus Scrimgeour ordered attacks against a dozen of the most prominent pureblood families in Britain?" Asked Stephen Nott, a one-time Death Eater who now seemed more interested in growing old and fat.

"Who else could have done it?" Lucius sneered. "The attacks all took place on the day he was swore into office as the new Minister of Magic. He was sending you all a message."

"And what message was that?" Nott snarled.

"That Albus Dumbledore is old and Harry Potter is still a child, so neither one of them is strong enough to oppose his plans," Lucius replied. "Scrimgeour is declaring himself our new master."

"Better him than Dumbledore," some anonymous wizard shouted from the back of the room. This pointed remark got more than a few laughs.

"Nonsense. Scrimgeour has never been one of us. His methods are different than Dumbledore's, but they have always shared the same basic political philosophy: equal rights for all regardless of blood status."

"We are aware of this Malfoy, and we will fight Scrimgeour to a legislative stalemate in the Wizengamot just as we did with Dumbledore," another of the former Death Eaters boldly declared. "Nothing will change."

"You are wrong. Something important has changed: the Dark Lord has finally returned to us."

Bellatrix didn't care for Lucius, but she had to admit he had an excellent sense of timing. First he waited until his opponents had voiced a several negative opinions, and only then did he cut them off at the knees. It was a good minute before all the shouting died down, and by then the atmosphere in the room had completely changed.

"We were led to believe that Potter killed the Dark Lord."

"Yes, that's what you were told... by Dumbledore," Lucius pointed out with relish. "In truth the boy had nothing to do with the Dark Lord's injuries. They were caused by Lily Potter. The wretched mudblood sacrificed herself in an ancient and dark ritual—a ritual which would have killed any of you. It took the Dark Lord a few years to heal, but now he has regained his former strength."

This statement was an artful blend of truth and deception. When they found the Dark Lord hiding in Albania, he had reluctantly told them what happened during that awful Halloween night. The story made sense to the Death Eaters. As purebloods they all knew the old tales about human sacrifice, and how the first wizards had used the power of these gruesome deaths to perform great feats of magic.

However these ancient rituals had long been banned, first by the old Council and later by the Ministry. Dumbledore could never let the public know that one of his most loyal muggleborn followers had employed such forbidden magic. Instead he had conjured up a story about the miraculous Boy-Who-Lived. Of course Lucius was lying through his teeth about the extent of the Dark Lord's injuries, but these fools didn't need to know that.

"What does he intend to do?" an anxious Nott asked.

"First he will kill Harry Potter. The myth of the Boy-Who-Lived will be destroyed forever," Lucius replied. "However the Ministry of Magic does present us with a slight problem. Scrimgeour, Amelia Bones, and Kingsley Shacklebolt are a formidable trio. The Dark Lord expects you, his most loyal followers, to undermine their political positions in any way that you can."

"We can cut the budget for the Aurors next year. Taxes are already too high, and Bones is always asking for more galleons."

"That's far too obvious. I say we launch an investigation into the Minister's personal finances. Rufus is an honest man, but his father was a corrupt as anyone in the Wizengamot's history. I sure if we look hard enough, we will find something illegal to pin on that self-righteous bastard."

"And we can leak everything we find to Rita Skeeter."

"That goes without saying," Lucius remarked. "Does anyone else have any more ideas to share with us?"

The discussion went on in this vein for a good ten minutes, and again Bellatrix grew increasingly nauseous. She believed in facing your enemies in open combat, inflicting as much pain on them as possible, and then slaying them. These pathetic backroom schemes were unworthy of their great cause. So it was almost a relief when one of the wooden doors suddenly exploded, and a large force of Aurors entered the room under the personal command of Minister of Magic himself.

"Don't try using your personal portkeys or apparition," Scrimgeour shouted. "The wards we have cast around this building are of the lethal variety."

Lucius couldn't see Bellatrix, but he knew the general area where she was hiding. Once the Minister was in the room he signaled that she should begin her attack. Earlier in the day Narcissa had sent a secret message to London informing the Aurors about the time and place of this meeting. It meant to be a trap not only for Scrimgeour, but also for the other purebloods. A few well-chosen deaths would have them all rallying to the Dark Lord's cause.

But now that the moment had arrived Bellatrix hesitated. This plan was an act of treachery that would forever taint her honor, and she found herself unable to go through with it.

Realizing something was seriously wrong, Lucius was forced to improvise. "You have no legal cause to arrest us. This is nothing more than a gathering of old friends, and we have committed no crimes."

"Save that load of bollocks for your trial," a grinning Scrimgeour said. "We borrowed several recording devices from the Wizarding Wireless Network, and hid them in this room. We recorded everything, including all the political tricks you were planning on using against me and my colleagues."

As Bellatrix watched the Aurors collect their new prisoners, she couldn't help but grin herself. Lucius had promised the Dark Lord he could manufacture a major political crisis, and now he had one. She wondered if she would punish for failing to go through with the attack? Given the Dark Lord's current weakness, it seemed unlikely.

* * *

"I swear I'm innocent!" Sirius Black shouted. The accused prisoner was chained to an uncomfortable metal chair in front of the entire Wizengamot, and he sweating like a Hufflepuff virgin during his first trip to a Knockturn Alley whorehouse. "Given me a pint full of Veritaserum. I'll drink it all!"

"Veritaserum would be useless in this case," Director Bones told the assembled wizards and witches. "The Black Family was well-known for teaching their children Occlumency at an early age. I have no doubt that the prisoner would be able to counter the potion's affects no matter how large the dose was."

For years Sirius had dreamed of a fair trial as he rotted away in Azkaban, but this a pointless farce. The Minster of Magic was out for blood, which made sense after that happened last week with Lucius Malfoy and his slimy friends. The lot of them had been arrested one night, and freed the next morning when their high-priced barristers descended on the Ministry. The fiasco left Scrimgeour looking like an incompetent idiot, and now he needed a new story for the _Daily Prophet_. A story like the conviction and execution of a well-known Death Eater.

"What about a pensieve? I show you any memories you want to see. I'll show you my whole bloody life if that's what it takes."

Director Bones turned to face Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting off to one side of the courtroom with his godson Harry Potter. "Headmaster, you are the foremost living authority on pensieves. Do you have an opinion on this subject to share with us?"

Dumbledore slowly stood up—he looked incredibly old and tired to Sirius. "I am sorry to say that pensieves are not a hundred percent reliable in cases like this. It is theoretically possible to alter your personal memories before they are removed from your mind."

"What about an Unbreakable Vow?" the prisoner offered in desperation.

Again Director Bones was ready for him. "An Unbreakable Vow would prevent you from committing crimes in the future. However this trial is about actions you took in the past. There is also circumstantial evidence which suggests that the Dark Mark can nullify certain magical oaths."

"But I don't have a bloody Dark Mark!" Sirius shouted as he held up his bare left arm.

"The Dark Mark can be concealed," Scrimgeour told the others. "This trial has gone on long enough. We all knew Black was guilty back in November of 1981, and he is just as guilty now. I say we vote."

Sirius didn't get a single vote for acquittal, not even from Dumbledore who abstained for some reason. The Minister wanted a dramatic picture for the_ Daily Prophet_, so he was taken down to the Department of Mysteries just minutes after the sentence was handed down. Since the mass escape from Azkaban this summer, the island prison was no longer considered secure. As a result all convicted Death Eaters were to be sent through the Veil immediately. A small part of Sirius was glad he no longer had to face the horror of the Dementors, but it was very small part of him.

"I would like to have a word with Mr Black before the end," Harry said once they reached the Death Chamber. "Since he was partly responsible for the murder of my parents, I believe I'm within my rights to ask for this small favor."

Director Bones didn't look happy about this odd request, but Scrimgeour overruled her. "Give me your wand first, and remember to keep a safe distance from the prisoner."

As his young godson approached Sirius cringed. He failed to live up to the oath he had given James and Lily all those years ago not once, but twice. Soon Voldemort would return with the worst of his Death Eaters at his side, and all Harry had to protect him was an old wizard with one foot already in the grave.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but please…"

"Shut up, and listen to me very closely Padfoot," Harry whispered. "You have to jump right through the center of the Veil."

He hadn't been expecting this. Maybe a kick in the balls, but not this. "Why would I want to do that?"

Harry gave him a slight smile which was carefully hidden from the other spectators. "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

"Well, I must say you certainly know how to prank a person," Sirius muttered. "I guess I don't have anything to lose."

"No, you don't," his godson whispered before he walked back to Dumbledore's side. To his amazement the great wizard playfully winked at him.

"Let it be known that this is the ultimate fate of all those who swear allegiance to the half-blood wizard Tom Riddle," Scrimgeour declared. "Send him through."

Well if Sirius Black was going to take part in one last prank, he was going to do it his way. So he pulled his arms free of the two Aurors who were guarding him. "There is no need to push."

After more than a decade in Azkaban, Sirius couldn't have weighed more than eight stones. This meant his trousers were very loose around the waist, and it was possible to pull them down with just one of his manacled hands. The Lord of the House of Black then bent over, and mooned the Minister of Magic and half the members of the Wizengamot.

"I will see you bastards in hell," he shouted just before jumping through the mysterious Veil.

* * *

After the gloom of the Death Chamber, Sirius was forced to shut his eyes against the blinding light. Slowly his vision adjusted, and he found himself sitting on a hot tropical beach surrounded by a dozen old men all wearing identical muggle uniforms.

"Black, is there some reason your foul bits are hanging out in the open?" a familiar voice asked.

"Argus Filch. With your jolly disposition I figured you'd end up here," Sirius said as covered himself. "The beach is a nice surprise though."

"This is not hell," one of the other men told him. "In truth, it's as close to heaven as you are likely to find in this troubled world."

Unlike Filch, the man's voice sounded educated and perhaps... German? After studying his leathery face for a few moments Sirius recognized him from one of his mother's favorite photographs. "You're the Dark Lord Grindelwald."

"That was my title once, but no longer," Gellert replied. "On behalf of your godson Lord Potter, I would like to welcome to the Farshaw Academy."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter contains a major spoiler from the "Towers of Midnight" (Wheel of Time #13).

* * *

Bellatrix reluctantly entered the large room which several of the Death Eaters had quietly nicknamed the "birthing chamber". It was actually the basement of deserted warehouse in Cardiff, and despite the casting of many cleaning charms the place still had an offensive odor to it. Or perhaps that was just an unavoidable byproduct of what went on here during the dark hours of the night.

Augustus Rookwood and Severus Snape were off in the corner brewing seven different potions in a variety of cauldrons, one of which looked like a giant's skull. Off to another side of the room were the strange antiques they had spent so much time and effort collecting since returning here to Britain. No one knew what they were for, but one Death Eater had already been executed for daring to touch the Hufflepuff Cup Bellatrix had secretly retrieved from Gringotts. Using a Saidar-created "hole" to visit her Vault was much more pleasant than riding in those ridiculous mining carts.

"You requested my presence."

"Yes, I did Bellatrix." the Dark Lord growled, which was an odd sound coming from his infant-like form.

According to Rookwood there were five rituals the Dark Lord could use to regain a mature body, but each one of them had certain disadvantages. Potentially lethal disadvantages. However when Snape arrived last week a decision had finally been made. With the services of a true Potion Master at his disposal, the Dark Lord informed the Death Eaters that the long-awaited ceremony would occur in a few days.

"I have decided to give you a chance to atone for your failure to kill Rufus Scrimgeour. On the day of my glorious rebirth you will attack Hogsmeade, and kill the Aurors who are stationed there. That level of bloodshed should be enough to keep the Ministry of Magic preoccupied."

"Do you believe that Snape will betray us again?" Bellatrix asked in a loud voice the traitor was sure to hear. She refused to trust any Death Eater that stayed out of Azkaban for any reason.

The Dark Lord wheezed—it took her a moment to realize that he was trying to laugh. "Severus has once again pledged his undying loyalty to me. No, my concern is that Dumbledore or the amateurs at the Department of Mysteries might be able to detect what we are doing. Magic this old has a very distinctive quality to it."

"How many Aurors will I be facing at Hogsmeade?"

"No more than ten."

Ten Aurors in-and-of themselves wouldn't be a problem. Ten Aurors who were expecting an attack and had the advantage of a well-fortified position might be a problem even for a woman yielding Saidar. A Circle with Narcissa could provide her with the extra strength she might need. Her sister could do little more than embrace Saidar and perform a few minor weaves, but that was irrelevant. If the two of them formed a Circle all she had to do is stand there while Bellatrix would be in total control of any channeling.

"May I take Narcissa along?"

"No, I'm afraid that is quite impossible," the Dark Lord replied. "The poor Lady Malfoy has been feeling under the weather lately, and has taken to her bed. There is no need for you to worry though, since I am personally overseeing her medical treatment."

So, she was no longer trusted. In fact her position was so precarious that the Dark Lord felt the need to take her sister as a hostage to compel her obedience. Bellatrix was tempted to march upstairs to the Malfoy's luxurious tent, and stab anyone who was stupid enough to get in her way.

However an act of rebellion like that would force the Dark Lord's hand. He would have no choice but to kill her if he wanted to maintain his authority over the other Death Eaters. She and Narcissa would end up being hunted like animals by both sides, and poor Draco would be left in the care of that idiot Lucius.

On a deeper level Bellatrix found the concept of rebellion to be distasteful. She was a pureblood witch from an ancient line of purebloods. The Dark Lord was a fool in many ways, but if he was defeated in this war everything she treasured would be lost. She had no doubt that a Britain ruled by a weak muggle-lover like Rufus Scrimgeour was doomed to destruction.

"With your permission my Lord, I will go ahead and scout the village before engaging the Aurors."

"Do not disappoint me again."

Bellatrix clearly heard the message hidden in the Dark Lord's words: a failure in Hogsmeade would mean Narcissa's death.

* * *

Since Harry Potter had regained the ability to channel Saidin he had only one real regret: he could no longer fly. He had tried using the One Power on several different enchanted brooms, but it never worked. The brooms would just lay there on the ground—they didn't even twitch. As he sat in the high bleachers watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practicing with their new substitutes, the pain of that loss kept hitting him over and over again like a Bludger.

"Are you alright Harry Potter?" Luna asked.

The little Ravenclaw had started following him and his friends around the castle like a new puppy. Well, an exceptionally brilliant puppy. At the moment she was helping Hermione and him with their Ancient Runes assignment even though she couldn't take the class until next year.

"No, I'm not alright. I really miss all this," Harry admitted as he waved his hand towards the chaos taking place over the pitch.

"Really? Because this is the most pathetic Quidditch match I have ever seen," Luna commented with her usual honesty.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. The two "teams" were pretty awful. One side was made up of Oliver Wood, the Weasley twins, and several older students from Gryffindor. The other side consisted of the three starting Chasers and a group younger students, including Ron who was acting as their Keeper.

After twenty minutes neither team had reached fifty points. Oliver and the twins kept Angelina, Alicia, and Katie from scoring too often, but the Chasers were able to dominate control of the Quaffle. That was a good thing too, since Ron had yet to stop a single shot at his end of the pitch. The only bright spot so far was the Seeker's duel between Ginny and a witch named Demelza Robins. She was just a first-year, but the girl was already a brilliant flyer.

"You want to use the rune ehwaz, not eihwaz," Luna said as she glanced over at Harry's half-completed essay.

When Hermione hear this she immediately grabbed her huge Runes textbook, and began flipping through the pages at a furious pace. After a minute she slammed the book shut. "How can you be so good at this? You are only a second-year."

Luna's grey eyes glazed over. "My mother and father use to spend the long winter evenings solving complex rune puzzles together, and I would sit on their laps trying to help. Some of my very first memories involve working on those puzzles."

Harry suddenly hugged Luna. "Hold on to those memories as tightly as you can, and don't ever let them go," he whispered to her.

Faced with this display of raw emotion, Hermione was uncharacteristically silent for a few moments. But then she let out a small cough. "Do you know that Madam Hooch is glaring at us? I've noticed that she been acting odd since the start of term."

"That's because she is in love with Harry Potter."

"Luna Lovegood!" a scandalized Hermione shrieked. "You can't say things like that about a member of the teaching staff."

"Why not? It's true."

Again Harry found himself laughing. Not only Luna was a joy to have around, she was very perceptive to boot. He had run into dozens of women like "Madam Hooch" during his other lives. The more dominate and dismissive you were, they better they liked it.

"It's not really love, it's… well, you'll figure out what it is in a few years," he told the two girls.

Suddenly a massive kaleidoscope of light appeared in sky above Hogsmeade—it looked like a rainbow had been shattered into a thousand pieces. This display was followed by a deafening noise that seemed to reach down into the marrow of your bones. Someone—most likely like this Bellatrix Lestrange woman—was channeling the One Power in the nearby village.

Unlike Hogwarts were Harry had created several massive defensive wards, he had placed just a single ward around the perimeter of Hogsmeade. It caused nothing more than a powerful sound-and-light show meant to stun and not kill an intruder. Hopefully he would be able to capture the Death Eater before she managed to regain her balance.

Harry seized Saidar and used it to enhance his voice: "**ALL OF YOU, GET OVER HERE**!"

"What's going on?" Ginny asked as she flew over to her friends on the bleachers. "Where did that bloody noise come from?"

"Oliver, you have to fly Luna back to Hogwarts right now. Angelina, you are our second best flyer, so you take Hermione," Harry told the floating crowd of Quidditch players. "Madame Hooch will be acting as your rear guard, but I want all of you to have your wands ready. If you come under attack cast a Shield Charm, but otherwise keep flying as fast as you can. When you reach the castle tell Headmaster Dumbledore that Hogsmeade is under attack."

"How do you know that?" a confused Ron asked.

"No questions! The Death Eaters will be here in a matter of minutes, and none of you have the training needed for this kind of fight," Harry said as he looked Tonks straight in the eyes.

To his surprise the undercover Auror nodded her head in agreement. "I'm not a bad flyer myself. Hop aboard," she offered.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Madam Hooch, but I have a pressing engagement at the moment."

Harry then wove a Mirror of Mists and disappearing from sight. Once he was under the bleachers he opened a Gateway to the roof of the Shrieking Shack. It was located between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and its great height provided him with an excellent view of the entire village.

There was a pillar of smoke near the Post Office, so he opened another Gateway to the roof of Honeydukes which was just across the street. He felt Saidar being channeled the second he stepped through, but he didn't see anyone. This suggested that his opponent had some experience fighting with the One Power.

Harry drew the fire out of the burning Post Office, and used the excess heat to form a thin web which spread throughout the village. This web was painful to the touch but not lethal, and it flushed Lestrange out into the open just like he wanted. Her counterattacked of pure Water shocked him.

She was powerful, but her weaves of Saidar were exceedingly crude. They lacked any of the sophistication he would have expected from one of the Forsaken. Thanks to his moment of hesitation, Lestrange had a chance to form her own Gateway and disappeared before he could shield her from the One Power.

"You coward!" he shouted mockingly as her Gateway closed.

"I am no coward!"

Instead of retreating from Hogsmeade, Lestrange had Traveled to the steep roof of Zonko's. This tricky site didn't seem to bother her at all—she was balancing herself with the grace of a professional dancer. Again her attack of Fire was crude, and Harry easily destroyed it with a mixture of Earth and Spirit. However the resulting explosion lit-up the sky for kilometers around.

By the time their vision cleared Harry had Traveled to the roof of Gladrags Wizardwear while the Death Eater had moved again, this time to Madame Puddifoot's. That is where her luck finally ran out. In a split-second the Dragon Reborn had her shielded, and wrapped in several weaves of Air which were stronger than any steel.

"Congratulations, you last longer than I expected," Harry remarked. He wasn't lying. Thirty seconds was impressive for any female Aes Sedai facing someone of his power and experience.

"May the Light blind you Rand al'Thor!" Bellatrix yelled as she struggled helplessly against the weaves of Air. "You are still as arrogant as any Wetlander king."

When Harry heard these words he quickly opened another Gateway and carried his prisoner off to a nearby mountain. He placed a ward around the entire summit, and then asked her: "How do you know that name?"

"I have no idea where these memories come from, or why I have them. But I do know that you are Rand al'Thor."

"What is your name?" he asked in a cold voice.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"No, what is your real name?"

"I am Bellatrix Lestrange!" she shouted hysterically.

"No, you are Aviendha of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel. You were my wife."

They sat atop that Highland mountain for a good hour in complete silence. Hearing the name Aviendha had caused a mental breakthrough of some sort, but Harry was loathed to rush the process. He remembered how painful it was for him to reintegrate two separate lives, and he had done it on more than one occasion. For Aviendha this was a completely new experience.

"You may release me now Rand al'Thor," she said at last.

"Technically you are a wanted criminal, so I don't know if I can do that. Everything is so different in this new Age."

"Yes, things are different. For instance, you are now shorter than a Treekiller."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. He was very sensitive about his new body's lack of height. "Yes, I am short. But you are an old woman with a small bosom and a flat bottom."

"Sadly that is true, but you still want me. I can see it in your new green eyes."

Harry couldn't deny it. With Min Farshaw sex had been playful, while Queen Elayne of Andor had been passionate but always very proper. But with Aviendha there were never any silly bits of conversation or romantic gestures. Instead they were transformed into a pair of rutting animals that went at it for hours on end. He would give nearly anything to have that sexual intensity back in his life once again.

"Do you remember everything about your past life?"

"Yes, I do. Now release me. Please."

Before he could stop himself the shield cutting her off from the One Power was gone, and they were in each other's arms. It was awkward at first since she was several centimeters taller than him, but somehow they made it work. It felt wonderful. At least it did until his left side erupted in searing pain. As Harry fell to the ground in agony, he saw a spear of fire in his wife's hand.

"I remember everything Rand al'Thor. I remember how your actions betrayed the Aiel, how you stole our honor, and how you caused our final destruction. I will not let you do it again."

* * *

It was at times like this that Albus Dumbledore wished Hogwarts had muggle-style elevators. After a very long day he had to climb several flights of stairs to reach his office, and it was exhausting work at his age. The events of the past few hours made the trip seem even longer.

The attack on Hogsmeade had been stopped before it could begin, but now Harry Potter was missing. Minister Scrimgeour and Director Bones had arrived at Hogwarts demanding answers, but he had none to give them. Auror Tonks had reported that Harry disappeared just as the brief battle started, and that was all she knew. One of the Aurors in the village reported seeing a short man on the roof of Gladrags Wizardwear of all places, but he wasn't sure if it was the famous Boy-Who-Lived or not.

The Headmaster's musings were cut short when he noticed a plump man standing behind one of the many suits of armor which lined the castle's hallways. He was using Harry's Invisibility Cloak, but Albus could still see his general outline. The stranger quickly thrust a black walking stick at him before he could draw the Elder Wand. That was when Albus felt the distinctive pull of a portkey on his navel. The second he landed in a dark and unknown field he was greeted by the red lights of a dozen Stupefying Charms.

* * *

"Wake up Dumbledore, you are delaying our schedule," a nervous Lucius Malfoy snapped some time later.

The man's presence explained the use of a portkey. As a member of the Board of Governors, Lucius had access to several which could pass through the castle's many wards. When Albus finally did manage to open his eyes he wished he hadn't. He was naked and chained to a stone obelisk which was covered with several glowing runes. At his feet was a baby phoenix. Fawkes had obviously tried to rescue him and been killed—the poor bird wouldn't be able to fly for at least another day.

Surrounding the two of them were over twenty masked Death Eaters, and a large cauldron full of a boiling potion of some sort. To his experienced noise it smelled like blood. At the center of this vile gathering was the same plump man who had captured him with the portkey. For some reason he was holding a small baby.

"Peter, I wish to speak to our honored guest before we begin."

That short statement answered several more questions. Peter Pettigrew really was alive just as Sirius Black had claimed, and he was a rat animagus. That explained how such a weak wizard had managed to infiltrate Hogwarts and ambush him. In Peter's arms was a homunculus which containing Riddle's essence, and some small part of his diseased soul.

"Hello Tom."

"Don't pretend you aren't terrified old man!"

"As a wizard you have been my superior for many years now," Albus admitted. "But there was always one advantage I had over you: I am not afraid of death. That is why you could never finish me off in a duel, and that is why Harry Potter will eventually destroy you."

"You are so very wrong. I will live forever," the Dark Lord whispered. "Let us begin the ritual."

After Peter placed the homunculus in the cauldron, Lucius stepped forward and added a human skull to the potion. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son."

He then drew a gleaming silver knife from his robes. "Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master."

The knife came down in a flash, and sliced Lucius's hand clean off. To Albus's amazement the weak-willed aristocrat managed not to scream. By now the cauldron was overflowing. He couldn't believe how many innocent children had been murdered to provide that much human blood. At least twenty, perhaps as many as forty in all.

Lucius struggled to his feet, and began to walk towards his former Headmaster. The other Death Eaters jeered at him, and called him a fool for losing the Dark Lord's precious diary. But somehow Lucius found the strength to overcome his pain, and he cut deeply into Albus' right forearm with the silver knife.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."

After this last ingredient was added, the cauldron began to melt. Out of the mass of flames a human body appeared and began to grow rapidly in size. In a matter of seconds it reached maturity, and a naked Tom Riddle stood before them.

Albus had hoped he would return as a deformed mutant. Instead he saw a handsome wizard of forty with normal features, a full head of hair, and dark brown eyes. At once the Death Eaters rushed forward to provide their master with his phoenix-feather wand, a black robe, and a large ring. When Albus saw that ugly piece of jewelry, his heart sank.

"Severus, I trust your unique form of Veritaserum is ready?" Tom asked as he strolled over to the obelisk. One of the masked Death Eaters quickly followed holding a glass vial.

"Yes, my Lord."

The Death Eater was about to pour the contents of the vial when Albus stopped him with a single question. "Why are you doing this?'

Snape slowly removed his white mask. "Our original plan might have worked, but you chose that arrogant brat over me. I refuse to throw away what is left of my life just because of your stupid mistake."

"You disgust me," Albus said with all the arrogance he could muster.

Tom threw his handsome head back and laughed—it was a repulsive sound. "Severus, tell the fool about all the wonderful improvements you have made to this batch of Veritaserum."

"This potion will permanently damage your mind. You will have no choice but to tell the Dark Lord everything he wants to know," Snape explained as he shoved the vial into the Headmaster's mouth.

"Well done my friend," Tom said. He then turned to face his other Death Eaters. "You have all done well tonight. Now I want to apparate to our new headquarters, and wait there for me. I will follow once my little chat with Albus has concluded."

"My Lord?" Lucius whimpered from the ground were he was cradling his injured arm.

"Avada Kedavra!" Tom shouted without hesitation. "Let that be a warning to all of you. I will no longer tolerate failure of any kind."

As Albus watched the Death Eaters quickly disappear, he felt the potion take effect. The pain was a thousand times more intense than a regular headache, but he had to think. Tom desperately wanted information, that much was clear. But what sort of information? Albus knew he could no longer keep all his secrets, but hopefully with some misdirection he might be able to keep a few of them.

"I saw the way you were looking at my ring," Tom commented as he raised his hand in the air. "Do you know what this truly is?"

"It is a horcrux."

"Does anyone else know about its existence?"

"No."

That answer didn't satisfy Tom in the least. But no matter how long he tortured Albus, the old wizard's story never once changed. Yes, he suspected that Tom had created several horcruxes, but he had never bothered to actually look for them. Nor had he shared his suspicions with anyone else, since this the information was so potentially dangerous.

"How could you have been so stupid?" Riddle muttered over and over again.

"They won't protect you the next time you face Harry Potter," Albus said as he tried to move his broken legs into a more comfortable position.

"Tell me about the prophecy," Tom snarled. "And while you're at it, tell me about Harry Potter's new abilities. Don't look so surprised. Hogwarts is full of rumors about the boy's skill with wandless magic. Your professors love to gossip, and Minerva was happy to tell Severus all about the boy's atrocious behavior."

This was moment Albus had been waiting for, and the reason he was willing to stoically endure so much torture. If he told Tom the truth about prophecy and Harry's memories of the future it should be enough to distract him. But his confession had to be realistic—he needed to put up more of an act before the end.

"Never," Albus spat as three more blood-covered teeth dribbled out of his mouth.

After another lengthy cycle of torture, he reluctantly told his former student that the Saidin was the "power the Dark Lords knows not". Tom thought the story was fascinating. Like Gellert, he longed for a world controlled by wizards and this idyllic future seemed like a dream come true to him.

"And you believe the boy is telling you the truth?"

"I have no doubts anymore. You've seen evidence of this as well, in the form of Bellatrix Lestrange."

This minor revelation caught Tom by surprise. "So you know about the changes my dear Bella has undergone? I suppose she is an Aes Sedai from the future as well?"

"That is what Harry believes."

"Then my course of action is clear. I must learn more about this One Power, and then I will use that knowledge to destroy the boy."

"You fancy yourself a mighty Dark Lord, but do you know the titles they gave Harry in the future? They called him the Prince of Dawn. They called him the Lord of the Morning. They called him the Dragon. You don't stand a snowball's chance in hell against the boy in a duel."

"Perhaps, but if I do lose you won't be around to see it," Tom sneered. "To regain his perfect body I had to sacrifice three of my horcruxes, which leaves me just the one: my family ring. With your death I can begin to rectify this dangerous state of affairs."

"Which of your sick little trophies you plan on using this time?"

"I shall use your death to place a fragment of my soul in your former wand," Tom replied as he began to prepare for a new ritual. "I think it has a wonderful symmetry to it, don't you? And since Peter was good enough to steal James Potter's old Invisibility Cloak for me, I think I'll use that to create a third horcrux when I murder the boy."

Albus Dumbledore knew he was mere moments away from death, but now he could face the next great adventure in peace. Tom had accidentally gained possession of all three of the Deathly Hallows, but he was still ignorant of their true significance.

The old wizard was going to take that one last secret with him to the grave.


	9. Chapter 9

The gaping wound in the side of Harry's body put a severe limit on his options. Now that Bellatrix had recovered the memories of her former life as Aviendha, she would be much more difficult to defeat in duel. It might even take him a full minute to shield her, and in that short time he could easily bleed to death. His other option was to retreat and seek medical attention elsewhere. Since he didn't want to die just yet, he chose to retreat.

When Bellatrix saw the Gateway open, it was her turn to mock him. "Running away won't..."

That was all he heard before disappearing. Coming here to the Academy was a risk, but he no longer trusted magical healers like Madam Pomfrey. Would her various spells and potions mend his injuries or would they kill him? He had no idea anymore.

"Starkey, come quickly!" Argus Filch yelled when he saw Harry tumble out of the Gateway. "Lord Potter has been hurt."

None of the Argonauts Harry had trained over the past few months were gifted at healing with the One Power, but Edward Starkey was the best of the bunch. Much like Argus, Starkey was a squib who had spent forty years as a lowly caretaker at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Even though he was a highly intelligent man, the healers had treated him like a house-elf. Because of these long years of abuse, he was fanatically devoted to his new Lord.

"This is a nasty piece of work," Starkey muttered after removing his patient's shirt. "Not only does the wound go all the way through your abdomen, but it's partly cauterized as well. I take it this was caused by some kind of fire curse?"

"It was caused by a blasted woman using the One Power," Harry explained through gritted teeth.

"So Lestrange finally came out of hiding and ambushed you?" Gellert Grindelwald asked as he and Sirius Black joined the large group of onlookers. "I wonder what took her so long?"

"Give me some space!" Starkey snapped. Like many of the other squibs, learning to channel Saidin had greatly increased his self-confidence. "This is far more difficult than anything I've attempted before, so I don't want any bloody interruptions until I'm done!"

For the thousandth time Harry cursed his lack of skill when it came to healing. He could single-handedly obliterate an army of invading Trollocs, but a simple spear wound left him helpless as a newborn. Hopefully this old man knew what he was doing.

"My Lord, I think she missed your right kidney by a few centimeters, so all I have to do is patch-up your intestines. If I can do that, healing your torn muscles and skin will be a piece of cake."

"You have my complete confidence," Harry lied.

Starkey brushed a strand of long grey hair out of his face, and laid both of his hands on Harry's bare skin. Every Aes Sedai healer felt the need for this skin-to-skin contact, so he took the simple gesture as a positive sign. But then came the pain. It racked his entire body for what seemed liked hours.

Finally the squib let out a howl of triumph. "You can take that Healer Greengrass and shove it down your pie hole, you conceited bitch!"

"I take it the operation was a success?" Gellert asked dryly.

"You bet your ass it was!" Starkey replied as he began his victory dance. The other Argonauts offered their hearty congratulates by slapping him on the back and joining in the dance.

Sirius knelt down beside his godson. "How do you feel?"

"I will live," Harry moaned. "Barely."

"Don't complain... my Lord. At least you aren't bleeding out of your ears and eyeballs."

"You aren't going to let me forget that, are you?"

Once Sirius was brought here to the Academy, he had been taught how to channel Saidin like the others. After a few weeks Harry decided to give him a new wand to see what would happen. His negative reaction to magic was just as severe as Gellert's had been. Sirius was furious when he discovered that his godson had used him as a human guinea pig.

"No, I'm not going to let you forget that. Now let's get you some food and a comfortable bed. There is no way you can make it back to Hogwarts tonight." Sirius observed correctly.

It had been over two weeks since Harry had last been on the island, and in that short time the appearance of the Academy had greatly changed. Gellert fancied himself an architect, and he was always encouraging the others to practice their channeling by remodeling their small stone houses. Some looked like overgrown sea shells, while others fashioned miniature castles complete with towers and battlements.

Sirius had gone in a different direction, and made his own tiki hut out of real wood and leaves right down on the warm tropical beach. After spending all that time in Azkaban, he never wanted to live in a stone building again. Once they were inside Harry was shocked to see a beautiful young woman making the bed. With her dark hair and coppery skin she looked like a native of Honduras, which was located around thirty kilometers south of the island.

"Who is this?" Harry asked in a tight voice. The young woman started speaking in rapid Spanish, and then pinched one of his cheeks. Like all men, he detested being pinched on the cheek.

"This is Esmeralda," Sirius replied as he helped Harry onto the large bed. "A few of us Traveled over to Tegucigalpa for some much-needed supplies, and we sort of ran into each other."

"How old is she?"

"I'm not really sure. My Spanish is a bit rusty."

"Why did you bring her to the island?"

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be four-hundred years old?"

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Isn't her family going to come looking for her at some point?"

"No," Sirius answered at once. "They left Esmeralda at that... shite hole over a year ago. Trust me, she is much happier here."

So his godfather had visited a brothel, and decided to rescue a beautiful prostitute from her life of misery. Typical Gryffindor. "What does she think about all the channeling that goes on around here?"

Again Esmeralda began to speak in her rapid Spanish. Most of it was gibberish to Harry, but one word stood out: angeles.

Harry glared at his godfather. "You are actually impersonating an angel? That is low, even for a bloody Marauder."

"It was her idea, not mine. We can discuss this later. First you have to eat something," Sirius turned to his new lady friend and spoke some atrocious Spanish. Esmeralda quickly left the hut, no doubt to look for some food.

"While we are waiting you have to tell me how Trixie got the drop on you. You are twice as powerful as Gellert or me, and you have centuries of experience at this sort of thing. Or so you claim."

Harry leaned his head back on the soft pillows. The bed was comfortable as long as he didn't think about what Sirius had been doing on it an hour ago. "I told you that Bellatrix had memories of the future just as I do, that she was an Aes Sedai."

"Yeah, but you didn't know which Aes Sedai she was."

"Well, I sure do now. Her name was Aviendha, and she was one of my three wives."

Sirius started to laugh. Loudly. He then fell out of his chair onto the floor of the hut. Soon he was laughing so hard that he started to cry, and even then he couldn't stop himself.

"Are you done?" an irritated Harry asked.

"Why in the name of Merlin's sagging balls did you marry a raging bitch like my cousin Trixie?" Sirius asked after he finally stopped laughing.

"Aviendha **was** a fierce warrior, and obsessed beyond all reason with her own sense of honor. But she was also highly intelligent and completely loyal to those she considered to be her friends. And I swear by the Light, she had the most incredible breasts I've ever seen."

"You know expect for the part about her breasts, that's a pretty accurate description of my cousin. She might have been crazy, but she was also the single most talented Death Eater we faced during the war."

"Even after she stabbed me like that, I still love her," Harry said in a tried voice. "I honestly don't think I can hurt her."

In a few minutes Esmeralda returned with several plates of food. There was fresh fish and warm bread, along with a wide selection of fruits. Being healed had taken a lot out of Harry, and he only managed to eat a few mouthfuls of fish before nodding off.

* * *

"All hail the conquering hero," the Dark Lord said scornfully the moment Bellatrix entered the dinning room.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then continued walking towards the long table where her former master was sitting along with Narcissa and several other Death Eaters. She needed to regain this man's trust, or Rand al'Thor would win the war in a matter of weeks. Or perhaps just days.

"I would speak with you," Bellatrix said. "Alone."

The Dark Lord reached for his wand, but suddenly stopped himself. Maybe there was hope for him yet. "Leave us. All of you but Narcissa," he told the others.

Bellatrix took a seat at the other end of the table as the Death Eaters left. "I injured Harry Potter yesterday. Quite severely."

"But you did not kill him or any of the Aurors in Hogsmeade. In fact your mission was a total failure."

This whole situation seemed off to her for some reason, so she decided to press her luck. "Yet Narcissa is still alive, which means you want something from me."

In a flash the point of the Dark Lord's wand was pressed against her sister's long, pale neck. "Lucius is already dead, and I have no qualms about making your nephew Draco an orphan today."

Narcissa was embracing Saidar, but she lacked the skill needed to defeat such a talented wizard. If Bellatrix tried to save her the resulting duel could easily get them both killed. It was a stalemate, and the Dark Lord knew it.

"You can not defeat Harry Potter, and despite my small victory over him neither can I," she freely admitted. "But together we might have a chance."

"You have told me before that a woman can not teach a man how to "channel" the One Power. Has something changed?"

"Yes, I have recovered all my old memories."

The Dark Lord smiled. "Albus implied that something like this might happen. So tell me, were you Harry Potter's mortal enemy in this other life as well?"

"No, I was his wife."

Bellatrix then began to tell her two listeners about that other lifetime. How she had met the great Rand al'Thor during the Aiel attack on the Stone of Tear, and how she had reluctantly fallen in love with him in the following months. Narcissa refused to believe that her proud sister would have shared her husband with two other women, but it was the truth. She also told them of the terrible Dark One trapped in his prison, and how Rand al'Thor had defeated him during the Last Battle.

"It sounds as if you are still in love the man," the Dark Lord said in a dangerous tone. "Why would you help me defeat him now?"

"Before we fought the Last Battle, my husband felt he needed to unify all the nations of the world. Because of this he made peace with a very dangerous enemy: the Seanchan Empire. Most of the details of this story are irrelevant now, but you must know one important fact about the Seanchan: in the lands they controlled every woman who could channel became a slave or they die. No other choice was permitted."

The Dark Lord scoffed. "How could simple muggles enslave a woman with your formidable powers? "

"Somehow the Seanchan learned how to create metal collars called _a'dam,_" Bellatrix explained. "These collars couldn't be removed by an individual who was wearing one, and they were used to inflict intense pain. All female channelers were repeatedly tortured until they learned to obey orders without hesitation. They were even stripped of their names, and given new ones to break their spirit. Once-proud women were turned into pathetic dogs eager to please their new masters."

"Allow me to guess what happen after your so-called Last Battle. This Seanchan Empire broke the peace treaty your husband had forced them to sign, and started a new war of conquest. In the end all of our kind became slaves of these foul muggles. Am I right?" the Dark Lord asked.

"The story was a bit more complicated than that, but in general terms that is what happened."

"Then your husband was a fool."

Rage flared in Bellatrix's black eyes. "He was a man of great honor, and a worm like you will never be his equal!"

"I stand corrected," the Dark Lord said as he slowly removed his wand from Narcissa's neck. "Your husband was an honorable man—too honorable. His type of naiveté will lead us to destruction at the hands of the muggles. Is that what you want to see happen? Again?"

"No."

"Good. I have given my loyal Death Eaters their orders for the time being, so the three of us are going to leave Britain. Once we have reached my stronghold in Eastern Europe you will begin to teach me about this One Power. You will tell me every last detail, and together we will succeed where so many others have failed."

An ashamed Bellatrix could only nod her head in agreement. No matter how terrible the cost, she would not allow Rand al'Thor to destroy her world a second time.

* * *

The morning after being turned into a human shish-kabob by his own wife, Harry tried to get out of bed. It didn't work. While Starkey had stopped him from bleeding to death, the squib's crude battlefield healing was far from perfect. Harry had a sinking feeling that if he moved around too much today internal hemorrhaging was a real possibility.

"Look who is finally up," a cheerful Sirius remarked.

"I need the loo," Harry grumbled. "And food. And new clothes."

"Come on, the communal facilities are just up the path."

Using Sirius as a human crutch, Harry was just able to make it to the loo before his bladder exploded. Along the way he noticed that Esmeralda was not the only beautiful, young woman at the Academy. In fact there were now as many women on the island as there were men. They looked happy enough as they went about their morning chores, but looks were often deceiving.

"How many brothels have you been visiting Padfoot?" Harry asked after drinking an amazing cup of Guatemalan coffee.

"Just two, but they were both very large establishments," Sirius admitted. "Look nothing improper is going on here."

Harry arched a single eyebrow.

"Alright, there's a lot of **that** going on, but it's all consensual."

"I know you went straight from a wealthy pureblood household to Hogwarts and then to Azkaban, but in the rest of world this kind of thing is called exploitation. If any of them want to leave, it's their choice. Even your Esmeralda. Albus will cast a Memory Charm or two, and then they go back to the mainland where they belong. Is that perfectly clear?"

"You know, you might look like Prongs, but just now you sounded exactly like Lily up on her high horse."

"Coming from you I will take that as a complement."

Since he wasn't ready to return to Hogwarts, Harry decided to spend some time teaching. Another bed was placed in the center of the Academy's stone amphitheater and covered with a large silk canopy. As he ate an endless stream of wonderful food, he showed the assembled Argonauts several new weaves. Thanks to recruiting trips back to Britain and Europe their numbers had grown from less than a dozen to almost thirty, and they were all eager to learn.

As Harry gave his lecture, Gellert and Sirius helped with the practical demonstrations. While none of the squibs were weak, it was clear that the two former wizards were much stronger. According to Gellert, this hierarchy was only logical since magic and the One Power were essential the same thing.

After only a few hours at the amphitheater Harry was exhausted, and he decided to spend another night on the island. To be on the safe side, he sent Argus and several of his friends back to Britain. They were to deliver a message to Albus, and then wait for a reply. In less than an hour they returned with dreadful news. To his surprise, it was Gellert who took it the worst.

"He was the most extraordinary wizard I ever knew," the retired Dark Lord told them as he wept.

"I thought you just using his emotional attachment as a way to manipulate him," Harry admitted.

"Of course I was manipulating him!" Gellert shouted. "But that doesn't change the fact that I cared for him."

Sirius looked up from the special edition of the _Daily Prophet_ that Argus had brought back. "This doesn't look good. The article claims that you disappeared under "mysterious circumstances", and the Ministry of Magic has the Aurors out looking for you."

Harry slowly got to his feet—it looked like the pain in his side was going be with him for a few more days. "I need to go and have a heart-to-heart conversation with my good friend Rufus Scrimgeour."

"Would you like an honor guard, my Lord?" Argus asked.

"No, the Ministry doesn't know about the Argonauts yet, and I would like to keep it that way for as long as possible," Harry replied as he opened a Gateway to a deserted flat in Central London. "The worst they can do is throw me through the Veil."

"You know, I'm not going to let your forget about that either!" Sirius snapped. The Marauder had almost lost his taste for pranks after his near-death experience with the Veil of Death.

The short walk from Harry's rented flat to the Ministry of Magic was painful, but soon he was standing in the little payphone typing in the word "MAGIC" using the number pad. Once he reached the Atrium all hell broke loose. A large group of Aurors quickly escorted him past the Fountain of Magical Brethren, which is where they found Albus's decapitated head this morning. In a matter of minutes he was in Minister Scrimgeour's office surrounded by a dozen angry faces.

"You seemed to be injured Mr Potter," Rufus remarked.

"I had a run-in with Bellatrix Lestrange in Hogsmeade. It's nothing serious though."

"Why didn't you seek medical treatment at Hogwarts or St Mungo's?"

It was a reasonable question to ask, but Harry didn't have a reasonable answer to give. So he responded with a question of his own. "Do you have any idea how Tom Riddle was able to kill Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"The details of that investigation are confidential."

"Then do you have any questions for me?"

"No," Rufus replied.

At that moment his worst fears were confirmed. The Minister of Magic knew perfectly well that Tom had killed Albus, but Harry's odd disappearance from Hogwarts presented him with a golden opportunity. With the great Dumbledore dead, Rufus had only two rivals left in all of Britain: Tom and Harry. To his credit the Minister intended to destroy the so-called Dark Lord and all his followers, but his younger rival was another story.

If Rufus openly accused Harry of killing Albus, he would be laughed right out of the Wizengamot. Instead he would whisper in the ears of important wizards and plant rumors in the press: the Boy-Who-Lived was unstable and potential dangerous.

"_Why, Potter might have even had something to do with the old wizard's death_."

No, Rufus didn't have to attack Harry directly to destroy his reputation with the public. Once his two main rivals were finally out of way, he would be left in total control of Britain. Albus had been right about him all along: the man really was a power-mad, would-be tyrant.

"So I am free to return to Hogwarts?"

Rufus shot him a nasty smile. "Yes my boy, you should return to school as soon as possible. Headmistress McGonagall is anxious to have a chat with her favorite student."


	10. Chapter 10

Even at a slow pace, hiking up from the Chamber of Secrets was agonizing for Harry. Since opening a Gateway in the wrong place was potential lethal for innocent bystanders, the Chamber was one of the few spots in Hogwarts where it was safe to use for Traveling. It was inconvenient, especially when he was trying to recover from a life-threatening injury, but it was better than cutting some poor Hufflepuff in half. When he finally reached the Gryffindor common room he found Professor Slughorn sitting there lecturing a small group of students. He seemed to be on sentry duty.

"Mr Potter, there you are!" Slughorn shouted the moment Harry came into view. He quickly dismissed the other students and waddled over to the most-prized member of his Slug Club.

It was hard for Harry to dislike the social-climber. Not only had he replaced that wanker Severus Snape, but they had also had several long and enlightening conversations about his mother Lily. "Is there something wrong Professor? Besides the obvious."

"Oh, so you have heard about poor Albus," Slughorn said with just the right amount of grief. Along with his talent as a potion master, the wizard was also a fine actor. "I know you must still be in shock over the dreadful news, but Headmistress McGonagall wanted to see you the moment you returned from... wherever you've been for the past few days."

"Lead the way."

As they climbed up and down the shifting staircases Slughorn noticed that something was wrong with the way Harry was walking. "Have you been injured?'

"Yes, I'm afraid so. That nutcase Lestrange managed to get in a cheap shot during our duel in Hogsmeade."

The professor abruptly stopped. "You survived a duel against Bellatrix Lestrange _nee_ Black? At your age?"

Harry ignored the question and kept limping up the steps. "Come on, we can't keep Minerva waiting all day."

Slughorn grimaced as he tried to catch-up. "My boy, you really shouldn't antagonize the poor witch. Albus was her dearest friend, and she has taken the unpleasant nature of his death quite badly."

"If she is emotionally unstable then why did the Board of Governors pick her as the new Headmistress of Hogwarts? In my opinion you would have been a far better choice."

Slughorn looked pleased with this blatant flattery. "To be honest with you, I agree. Unfortunately it was the old wizard's wish that Minerva be appointed as his successor."

Once they reached the Headmistress' office the Slughorn whispered the password to the stone gargoyle and fled. It was a bad sign, but Harry took a deep breath and marched forward anyway. The scene he found at the top of the spiral escalator was unsettling even for him.

It wasn't the presence of Mad-Eye Moody, Professor Vance, Tonks, Remus, or even Aberforth Dumbledore that bothered him. No, it was the sight of Minerva herself. Her long grey hair was hanging limply down to her shoulders, and her eyes were totally bloodshot. Worse of all were her hands: they were covered in blood.

It took him a moment to figure out why. He finally noticed the Sword of Gryffindor lying on the large desk. Its ornamental hilt was also covered with blood. Next to it was his new heron-marked blade, which was now broken in two pieces. Minerva had used one goblin-crafted sword to destroy another. The process had obviously taken a great deal of painful effort, hence her blood-covered hands.

Harry reached over and gently caressed the two metal shards of his broken sword. "Do you have any idea how furious the goblin blacksmiths will be when they find out about this?"

"The filthy goblins can rot in their sinking holes for all I care," Minerva declared. "Put your wand and Invisibility Cloak on the desk."

Harry suddenly experienced a terrible sense of déjà vu, since this was precisely how Albus had treated him last year. "My Invisibility Cloak was in my school trunk right under the sword. It you didn't find it there, I have no idea where it is," he explained while slowly placing his fake wand on the desk.

"He's lying," Tonks said at once. "He used it to vanish down on the Quidditch Pitch during the attack on Hogsmeade."

Instead of denying her accusation, Harry started to strip off his clothes and then threw them at the young Auror. Tonks turned bright red with embarrassment, but she didn't look away. Given the puritanical nature of magical Britain, he knew this display of nudity was sure to unnerve everyone in the room.

"I knew you were looking for an excuse to see me naked, you dirty pervert," he told Tonks as she searched his clothes for any hidden contraband.

"Well, I guess he doesn't have James' Invisibility Cloak on him," an amused Professor Vance remarked as she looked over his scrawny teenage body.

Harry calmly sat down in the chair in front of the Headmistress' desk and didn't bother to cross his legs. He had already witnessed what these people considered to be a fair trial, and he was no longer interested in humoring them. If Minerva thought her little "star chamber" was going to intimidated him, she was sorely mistaken.

After few moments of uncomfortable silence Aberforth burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but this whole "naked as a jaybird" act is something my late brother would have done in his younger days."

"True enough," a smiling Mad-Eye agreed.

"Have you all forgotten that the greatest wizard in the world has been murdered?" Minerva barked. She then transfigured one of Albus's beloved lemon drops into a large tartan blanket and draped it over her unruly lion.

"No, we have not forgotten, but his death has nothing to do with Harry," Remus replied coldly. "So why did you summon us here?"

"I am no longer certain what the boy is capable of," Minerva told the angry werewolf. "Since his unfortunate trip to the Chamber of Secrets last year he has been out of control and running roughshod over the lot of us, even poor Albus."

"I died."

"What did you say Potter?" Mad-Eye asked.

"I said I died in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry told them as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. The castle was never warm, not even in September. "Death is very unpleasant, and I suggest that you avoid it if possible."

"You seem pretty spry for a corpse lad," Aberforth remarked.

"I was sent back by some unknown force for some unknown reason, and the experience has changed me in many ways."

"For example?" Moody demanded.

"Take a look at my wand," Harry suggested. He wasn't ready to tell them about the One Power, but the idea that he could perform wandless magic would keep them preoccupied for a while

The old Auror picked up the wand in question and studied it for several minutes. "This is nothing more than a piece of wood."

"That is impossible," Emmeline Vance told him. "I have seen him cast dozens of spells in my DADA class using that wand. He is easily the best duelist in the entire school, seventh-years included."

Mad-Eye snapped the wand in half, and they all saw that there was no organic material at its core. "So you can cast spells and curses without a wand? That's a mighty impressive talent you've got there Potter, especially for someone your age."

"It's too impressive, and my new... talents have made me high-handed and unreasonable at times. Even arrogant," Harry admitted. "And for that I apologize to you all. But despite what Minister Scrimgeour has been saying behind closed doors, I had nothing to do with the murder of Headmaster Dumbledore. Tom Riddle is the one we should all be looking for."

"Pretty words Mr Potter, but I simply don't believe you," Minerva replied in her harsh Scottish brogue.

"You may sit in Dumbledore's chair, but you will never replace Dumbledore as our leader," Remus stated bluntly. "So it really doesn't matter what the hell you do or do not believe."

"I agree with him Minerva," Mad-Eye said. "If you attempted to lead the Order of the Phoenix it would be a total disaster."

"The Order of the Phoenix has been permanently disbanded," Harry remarked. When every set of eyes in the room turned his way, he added: "It was part of the deal Headmaster Dumbledore made with Rufus Scrimgeour before Cornelius Fudge stepped down. Kingsley Shacklebolt was appointed as Chief Auror, and in return the Headmaster promised that there would be no more vigilante groups operating outside the Ministry of Magic's official control."

"Are you serious?" Emmeline asked.

With a great deal of effort Harry held back an obvious joke about his godfather. "Yes, I'm being serious. Didn't the Headmaster tell you all about his political coup when it happened?"

Aberforth let out a bitter laugh. "Of course he didn't tell us lad. There was nothing in the world Albus loved more than keeping his precious secrets—even from his closest friends."

"Did he tell you about the prophecy concerning Tom Riddle and me?" Harry asked with genuine curiosity.

When they all replied in the negative he told them about being marked as Riddle's "Equal" when he was a child, and how he possessed the "Power He Knows Not". Harry also mentioned his disastrous duel against Bellatrix in Hogsmeade. They were all so angry about being kept in the dark about the prophecy that they quickly dismissed that bit of information.

"Sweet Merlin! The boy is our only hope of victory, and you wanted to toss him off the Astronomy Tower because he hasn't kiss your wrinkly arse enough!" a furious Mad-Eye roared.

"I didn't know," a weeping Minerva said in her own defense. "Albus never told me about the true nature of the prophecy. How could he hide something so vitally important?"

"Stupid woman," Aberforth muttered.

"Assigning blame is irrelevant now," Emmeline told them. "What's relevant is that the Death Eaters managed to infiltrate Hogwarts without being detected. Not only did the kidnap the Headmaster from his own castle, but the also stole the Invisibility Cloak and Dumbledore's portrait right out of this very office."

"They haven't been this bold or successful since the seventies. Bellatrix Lestrange is a tough witch, but even she couldn't have managed all this without Riddle's help," Mad-Eye reasoned.

"That's what the Headmaster Dumbledore believed as well," Harry added. "Before his untimely death he was convinced that Riddle was alive, and that the other Death Eaters had returned to his service."

"We have to start training the boy immediately," Emmeline declared. "If he can barely hold his own against Lestrange then he has no chance at all against a wizard of Riddle's caliber."

Harry decided to ignore that insult since he liked his new DADA professor so much. Besides he had accomplished his mission today. Minerva had been discredited, and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix were focused on their real enemy: Tom Riddle. Once his so-called "training" began it would be a simply matter to win Mad-Eye, Remus, Emmeline, and especially Tonks over to his side. Hogwarts might even have a new Headmaster before too long.

* * *

The funeral of Albus Dumbledore presented the Ministry of Magic with a minor problem. Who should deliver the main eulogy? The obvious choice was the Rufus Scrimgeour, but it was well-known that the Minister and Albus were political rivals of a sort. Thanks to the whole "goat scandal", Aberforth Dumbledore was out of the running. Minerva McGonagall was in no shape emotional to speak in public, while Elphias Doge lacked the stature an event of this magnitude required. Nicolas Flamel would have been a perfect choice, but he had finally died last year at the age of six hundred and sixty-five.

All this chaos left Harry with an opportunity, and he quickly took it by volunteering to speak. Of course Rufus insisted on going first. The man was a fine bureaucrat, but he was no orator. After a weeping Hagrid set the body on a stone table next to the Black Lake, the Minister took his place behind a large lectern. He kept looking down at his notes, and it was soon painfully clear to the large crowd that he did not like or even respect the late Headmaster.

Once Rufus was done Harry took out his new fake wand and levitated the lectern out of the way. He then stepped forward without any notes, and began speaking in a conversational tone. Thanks to Gellert Grindelwald he had all the dirt he needed.

"When Headmaster Dumbledore was about my age, his young sister Ariana was brutally attacked by a group of muggles."

This statement caused an intense reaction. Several of Albus's closest friends stood up to protest, while Aberforth reached for his wand. The Boy-Who-Lived ignored them all, and continued on with Ariana's sad tale. He told the crowd how she had been left permanently scarred by this attack, and how she had died at a young age because of her psychological problems. Harry left out the part about the duel with Gellert. He wanted to air some of Albus's dirty laundry today, but not all of it.

"Headmaster Dumbledore had more reason than any of us to hate the muggles for what they had done, but he refused to give into that hatred. Instead he dedicated his life to the cause of the muggleborns, and to peaceful co-existence with the larger muggle world."

After this shocking introduction Harry spent the next ten minutes listing Albus's many accomplishments, and he laid it on with a trowel. It wasn't hard to do, since the man truly was the greatest wizard of the age. A noted scholar, a leading educator, a feared duelist, and a successful government official on both the national and international levels. He had lived a rich and varied life.

"So I ask you now: who will take the place of this great wizard in our world? Will it be Tom Riddle? A wizard who has made no important contributions to our understanding of magic. A wizard who has never taken the time to pass his knowledge on to the next generation. A wizard who has never served in the Ministry of Magic, not even for a single day. A wizard who murdered Albus Dumbledore and then mutilated his body for a bit of cheap political theater."

"I say no! A thousand times no! I will never submit to the leadership of Tom Riddle and his gang of masked hooligans!"

It was far from being Harry's best speech, but it was enough to enrage the emotional crowd that day. When flames suddenly surrounded the body they jumped to their feet not in sorrow but in anger. After this magical fire disappeared all that remained was a beautiful marble tomb. Many of the witches and wizards rushed forward to touch both this new White Tomb and the Boy-Who-Lived himself with their hands. They were acting on some primitive instinct that they didn't quite understand on a conscious level. It was a need to be physically part of this important moment in history, when one leader had fallen and another had risen to take his place.

Harry looked over at Minister Scrimgeour and saw that the man was furious with this raw display of emotion. It was easy to understand why. The ridiculous plot to implicate him in Albus's murder was over before it could even begin. Everyone now accepted that Tom Riddle was back, and that he alone was responsible for this heinous crime.

On the other hand Aberforth's muted reaction was a surprise. Harry was worried he might have to fight a duel with the old barkeeper, but instead the wizard shook his hand.

"You shouldn't have spoken about my sister Ariana, but I understand why you had to do it. You kill that bastard Riddle and we'll call it even." As Aberforth turned to leave, he whispered: "By the way lad, the narcissistic tosspot would have loved your eulogy."

* * *

As fall slowly faded into winter, Harry's life settled down into a comfortable routine with a few minor exceptions. The wound Bellatrix had given him was slow to heal, and it continued to limit his mobility. Another problem was the theft of his Invisibility Cloak. After some investigating, he discovered that Ron's pet rat Scabbers had disappeared on the same day the Cloak was stolen. That was also the day Albus was kidnapped.

Once Remus saw an old picture of Scabbers, he positively identified him as Peter Pettigrew. The werewolf took the news hard. Sirius had claimed he was innocent during his trial, but his best friend hadn't believed him. The werewolf was soon finishing off two or three bottles of cheap firewhiskey a day, and the new Headmistress had no choice but to fire him. Harry knew he had to act before something drastic happened, so he clubbed Remus over the head with a weave of Air, and took the drunken sod to the Academy.

"What am I suppose to do with him?" Sirius asked when he saw the man floating in air behind his godson.

"Wormtail was living at Hogwarts. He is the one who got to Albus, and the one who stole Prongs' old Invisibility Cloak," Harry explained.

"Where is that bloody traitor now?"

"I have no idea and neither do you," Harry replied calmly. "Have you forgotten what happened the last time you went off hunting for Wormtail? I ended up living with the Dursleys for ten years, and you were sent to Azkaban. This time you are going to leave the traitor to me. I will personally deal with Riddle and his Death Eaters. You will stay here at the Academy, continue your studies, and watch over Remus. He will be thrilled to see you alive again."

"I don't know if I can forgive Moony for not trusting me. Do you expect me to teach him how to channel?"

"No, of course not!" Harry said. "The idea of a werewolf yielding Saidin during a full moon is beyond terrifying. Who knows what kind of damage he could cause in that irrational state of mind."

Sirius rubbed his dark goatee. "I can no longer transform into my animagus form, so maybe channeling could cure his Lycanthropy?"

"Or maybe it will have no effect at all. If you are wrong we would have to permanently cut him off from the One Power, and I brought Remus here because I don't want him to commit suicide."

"Did the Aes Sedai who lost their ability to channel during the Age of Legends really kill themselves?"

"A tiny minority survived, but over ninety percent were dead within six months," Harry explained. "Can you imagine what it would be like to live without Saidin now that you have tasted its intoxicating power? I for one would rather die."

"Saidin is the only thing in the world that can compare to my sweet Esmeralda," Sirius said with an obnoxious grin. "By the way, how are you enjoying your life of celibacy at Hogwarts?"

"Piss off, Padfoot."

Once Remus was in safe hands Harry returned to Scotland. There he continued with his study of magical theory. Arithmancy in particular was very enlightening, and he could see why it was Hermione's favorite subject. Unfortunately he discovered nothing more about the Dark One's prison. He was certain it was located here at Hogwarts, but he could still find no trace of its presence.

Dueling turned out to be much more enjoyable than endlessly searching the castle. Mad-Eye insisted on at least an hour of practice a day, and Harry was happy to oblige. Thrashing the old Auror was great fun. Professor Vance and Tonks soon joined in the action, but they had even less success than their mentor.

To make it fair Harry often limited himself to only one element, like Water for instance. One day in late December he was dueling against Tonks and Emmeline in the Forbidden Forest. Casting spells required intense mental concentration, so he keep them distracted by hitting them in the face with snowballs. Since he could extend his weaves for kilometers in any direction, bypassing their Shield Charms was child's play. Harry kept up his icy barrage until they both lost their wands.

"This is so bloody humiliating," Tonks whined. "We are highly trained Aurors, but he managed to beat us with nothing more than fluffy snowballs."

"He must have conjured over a hundred of them out of thin air, and they were flying so fast I could barely see them," Emmeline pointed out to the younger witch. Unlike Tonks, his professor never complained about constantly losing duels to one of her third-year students.

"You have to learn to deal with the unexpected during a fight," Harry added as he tried to stretch his sore muscles. Even after three months Bellatrix's stab wound still ached. "And the fact that your robes are now soaking wet is just an added bonus for me."

Tonks playfully cupped her flawless breasts. "My girls have helped me win more than one duel against sexist pigs like you. So, can you get it up for another threesome?"

Emmeline growled. "If you keep flirting with the boy like that I'm going to have to report you to Director Bones. Is that something you want on your official record at the Ministry of Magic?"

"But I haven't touched him!"

"At least not yet," a confident Harry remarked.

Before Tonks could come up with an appropriately lewd response, her chest exploded in an eruption of red flames. As she began to fall to the ground Harry saw them in the distance: Bellatrix, Narcissa Malfoy, and an older but still handsome version of the Tom Riddle he had faced in the Chamber of Secrets. They were linked in a Circle, and amazingly enough it was Riddle who was in control.

As Tonks continued to fall towards the ground, Harry knew he had only one real option. He seized more and more of Saidin until it caused him physical pain, and then he used the deadliest weave the Aes Sedai had ever discovered: Balefire. A thick bar of liquid light emerged from his hand, and the instant it touched Riddle the self-proclaimed Dark Lord ceased to exist. As a minor afterthought he shielded both of the Black sisters, rendering them helpless.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on?" Emmeline demanded. "Was that really Tom Riddle you just... obliterated?"

"Yes, it was," Harry replied as he went to check on Tonks.

In addition to its destructive qualities, the use of Balefire had a unique side-effect. Not only did it obliterate an individual, it also erases their past actions. The stronger the Balefire used, the more time is erased. And Harry had just used a staggering amount of Saidin. As a result several minutes of Tom Riddle's life no longer existed in this reality, which meant his cowardly attack on Nymphadora Tonks never happened.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" Tonks replied. Thanks to the temporal paradox, she wasn't even aware of the fact that she had been dead a few seconds ago. "Harry, what are my two crazy Aunts doing here?"

Emmeline had her wand pointed at Bellatrix, but she kept glancing over at her student. "Potter, you need to tell me what is going on right now!"

"I'm not sure myself, but I intend to find out," a grim Harry told her as he began walking towards Bellatrix.

* * *

A/N: This story is not over. It will continue until the end of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts.


	11. Chapter 11

Narcissa wanted to scream, but she knew it was pointless. Bellatrix had told the Dark Lord many stories about Potter's extraordinary abilities, but he insisted that the three of them could defeat the boy if they formed a Circle. Now the fool was dead, and they were at the mercy of this "Dragon Reborn". Hopefully her niece Nymphadora and the other witch would be able to restrain him in some way, but that didn't seem likely.

"I know you are angry with me, but how could you possible side with that worthless piece of excrement?" Harry asked Bellatrix. "What honor is there in serving as a Death Eater?"

Narcissa looked over at her sister and was shocked at the expression on her face. Bellatrix was not angry about the Dark Lord's sudden demise. No, the most feared witch in all of Europe looked ashamed. It was amazing. Even as a child she had never been ashamed of anything—even when she had good reason to be.

"As the leader of the Aiel you were too weak to save us. You will doom the wizards and witches of this time as well."

Potter sneered at her. "What would an ignorant savage like you know of a true leader's strengths or weaknesses? In three thousand years of history the Aiel never created anything of value. Killing was all your people were good for, and I have no doubt the world was better off once they were finally gone."

When Bellatrix heard these words she leapt at Potter in rage, but the boy sidestepped her attack with easy. A sword of blue Air suddenly appeared in his hand, and he used it to strike her in the stomach. When she doubled over in pain Potter struck her again, this time in the legs. Bellatrix dropped to the ground, but her pride prevented her from crying out.

"Harry, what in the name of Merlin are you doing?" a furious Tonks asked. She and the other witch were now pointing their wands at Potter, but he didn't seem to care. "We arrest Death Eaters, we don't torture them."

"Oh, how could I forget? That was something else the Aiel excelled at: torture," Harry said coldly as he stared down at Bellatrix. "Nothing made them happier than a chance to inflict pain on some poor Wetlander they captured. The Wise Ones in particular boasted of their skill at "questioning" prisoners. They would have been so proud of what you did to Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"I will kill you Rand al'Thor!"

"You've tried twice already and failed both times. If you try again nothing will be able to save you," Harry told her.

"Potter!" the older witch shouted. To Narcissa she had the look of an Auror. "What is going on here? Who are the bloody Aiel?"

The boy looked over his shoulder at the two witches and grimaced. Clubs of Air suddenly appeared behind them, much like the blue sword Potter still had in his hand. These clubs stuck the pair behind the ear, knocking them both out.

By this point Narcissa was in danger of soiling herself. Not only had Potter killed the Dark Lord in a matter of seconds, but he had also had them shielded at the same time. Despite these shields, he was still able to create and manipulate three separate objects using the One Power. Bellatrix said he was powerful, but that was a gross understatement. To him they were nothing more than annoying insects, and now they were completely at his mercy.

Harry turned his cold green eyes back towards his prisoners. "You didn't teach Tom Riddle anything about Saidin. He learned about it from Dumbledore's portrait."

Narcissa wasn't sure if that was a statement or a question, but it didn't matter. Bellatrix might not have a problem with being torture, but with her Master dead she was willing to answer any questions the boy had.

"Yes, that is exactly what happened. We tried teaching the Dark Lord for several weeks, but it was useless. So he started spending all his time with Dumbledore's portrait. He claimed he had learned how to control the magical portraits at Hogwarts by the end of his second year. "

"That must have made releasing the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets much easier," Harry mused. "Why did he move against me so quickly? Why not take more time to train?"

"The Dark Lord knew he could never match your skill at channeling, so he decided to ambush you here in the Forbidden Forest. A single shot in the back would have ended the threat posed to him by that insane prophecy." Narcissa explained.

"Then why did he try to kill Tonks first?" Harry asked.

"He wasn't trying to kill the little mudblood," a disgusted Bellatrix answered. "He hit her by accident."

"Did Riddle or either of you teach the other Death Eaters anything about channeling the One Power?"

"No, the Dark Lord claimed they couldn't be trusted with that kind of power," Narcissa replied. "He wouldn't allow us to teach any other witches. He said he would kill us if we even tried."

Potter looked down at his unconscious friends, and they immediately rose off the ground on comfortable beds of Air. "Tonks and Professor Vance need to be examined by Madame Pomfrey. You two will walk in front of me as we all make our way out of the Forbidden Forest."

"May I see my son Draco before you hand us over to the Ministry of Magic?"

"Minister Scrimgeour and Wizengamot would simply throw you through the Veil, and that is something I can't allow. Even if you both deserve it."

Soon they exited the Forest near the stone hut where the Keeper of Keys lived with his collection of magical beasts. Potter bound the two of them, and then they rendered them invisible. Bellatrix had tried to teach her sister this useful trick, but Narcissa always made a hash of it. Potter knocked at the door of the hut and soon Hagrid emerged. After a short conversation the half-giant picked up the two unconscious witches and began running up the path towards the castle.

"Hagrid will be in the infirmary before he realizes I'm not following him. Come on, it's time to see your new prison," Harry told them. "We are all going to be hidden by the Mirror of Mists when we arrive. Do not give away our position, or there will be unpleasant consequences."

After they passed through the Gateway, Narcissa found herself agreeing with Potter's assessment of the island. Unlike Azkaban it was a tropical paradise of surpassing beauty. She noticed two distinct groups: a number of older men who looked to be European, and much younger group of South American women. The small village made Hogsmeade look boring. No two buildings were the same, and some looked bizarre—even to a witch who had studied the history of magical architecture.

Potter ignored everyone, and led them down the village's main thoroughfare. When they reached one of the larger houses he used the One Power to rip the entire roof off. An elderly man came running out of the damaged house, and was immediately bound with yet more weaves of Air. At the same time Potter dropped the Mirror of Mists as a large crowd gathered to see what was going on.

"That is the Dark Lord Grindelwald," an impressed Bellatrix said as she motioned towards Potter's third prisoner with her chin. "I thought he died in Nurmengard a few months ago."

"So Trixie, how does it feel to meet one of your idols?" a familiar voice asked.

When Narcissa turned to see who it was, she could scarcely believe her eyes. "You were executed by the Ministry of Magic!"

"Cissy, it's good to see you," a grinning Sirius offered. He was wearing nothing but a muggle bathing suit. Luckily the older men were all wearing uniforms. "My godson here managed to fake the execution. It was prank worthy of the old Marauders."

Narcissa found herself smiling. Sirius might have been a blood traitor, but he was an amusing blood traitor. "I heard you mooned the Minister of Magic before you jumped through the Veil."

"And half the Wizengamot. Where is that bastard Riddle? I find it difficult to believe that he let Trixie here off her leash."

"Tom Riddle is dead," Harry snapped. Apparently he was the only one who was allowed to insult Bellatrix.

"Honestly? Then let's have a party!" Sirius declared.

"First we have a little housekeeping to attend to," Harry said as he turned to Grindelwald. "I take it you have a portrait of Albus somewhere in your possession?"

"It's in the locket I wear around my neck," Gellert replied. He seemed unconcerned with the boy's hostile attitude.

Harry reached down the man's shirt and pulled out a silver locket. Inside was a tiny picture of Albus Dumbledore. "You've been using this to pass messages to Riddle, to teach him about Saidin and the One Power. You wanted to train him, to make him so powerful that we would end up at each other's throats."

"Yes, that is exactly what I wanted. A war of that magnitude would be impossible to hide from the muggles."

"You were trying to force my hand," Harry reasoned. "You want me to seize control of the muggle world as soon as possible."

"The muggles are suicidal," Gellert replied without a trace of remorse. "It is only a matter of time until they cause some sort of disaster. Global warming, an artificially engineered plague, or maybe an old-fashioned nuclear war. Who knows what kind of perversion they will come up with next? We have to move now before it's too late for our people."

"Argus!"

Narcissa was shocked to see the former Caretaker of Hogwarts step forward in one of those odd uniforms. So Potter had taught squibs of all people how to channel the One Power? Like all purebloods, she had treated the squibs she dealt with like dirt. If they came looking for revenge who knows what would happen.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Are you familiar with the concept of a firing squad?"

What followed was a brutal affair, even for the wife of a blood-thirsty Death Eater. The Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald has taken to the other end of the island. Once there Potter actually summoned a large column of stone out of the ground, and the old wizard was secured to its base. The strange army of squibs lined up, and then used the One Power to create a tidal wave of pure Fire. There was nothing left of Grindelwald once they were done—not even ashes. After witnessing the execution even Sirius sobered up.

"Mrs Malfoy, your sister has taught you how to channel?" Harry asked once they returned to the small village.

"I can embrace Saidar, but that's about it," Narcissa replied truthfully. After witnessing the boy's idea of justice she wasn't about to lie to him about _**anything**_.

Harry then turned to Bellatrix. "You have proven to me that I can't trust you, not under any circumstances. I'm sorry to have to do this, but there is simply too much at sake."

Potter then permanently severed Bellatrix from the One Power.

Narcissa knew this instinctively because her sister started screaming. Just when she thought she couldn't be anymore frightened of the boy, he went and did something awful like this. All she could do was hold Bellatrix in her arms as she continued to scream.

Harry turned to Argus and Sirius. "I don't want another repeat of what happened with Gellert. They are both to be kept under guard at all times, even when they go to the loo. Do not underestimate Bellatrix. She can kill any of you with nothing more than her bare hands, so always maintain a safe distance."

"Will Trixie be alright?" a concerned Sirius asked. Even with all the bad blood between them, they were still both members of the Black family. That meant something, even to a blood traitor.

"No, she will not be alright," Harry replied as he opened a Gateway back to Hogwarts. "If she wants to end it... don't stop her. I will be sending my holidays here at the Academy, so I will see you all in a few days."

That first night was awful. Bellatrix finally did stop screaming after an hour, but the vacant expression that came over her face was in some ways worse. It was Sirius and his muggle who came to Narcissa's rescue. The pair invited the Black sisters to their primitive but large tiki hut down by the ocean. Esmeralda even helped her feed and bath the comatose Bellatrix. It seemed like the young woman had done this sort of thing before. Since her Spanish was nonexistent, she asked Sirius what Esmeralda's profession was.

"She use to work in the hospitality industry," he replied sheepishly.

That was a polite way of putting it. If the muggles had their own versions of Knockturn Alley, then she must have had plenty of experience dealing with traumatized women.

"How could Potter do something like this to his own wife?" Narcissa asked the next morning as she picked at her breakfast.

Sirius shook his head. "Harry isn't like anyone I've ever met before. My godson claims to be over four hundred years-old, and I believe him. He is capable of the most incredible acts of kindness and compassion, yet the very next moment he can be as cruel as Tom Riddle on his worse day."

"Padfoot, if what he is telling us is the truth than he was fought in two wars, and now he has been brought back yet again to solve our problems," Remus Lupin added. "Living through all that tumultuous history would make any man cold-hearted."

Narcissa never knew that one of Sirius' best friends was a werewolf, and the truth made her look at the wizard in a different light. She had always dismissed Remus as another immature prankster, much like that wanker James Potter. But to have graduated from Hogwarts while suffering under the burden of Lycanthropy was an impressive achievement. She also noticed that he hadn't taken up with one of the native women like Sirius had.

These pleasant thoughts were interrupted when Bellatrix started sobbing. Narcissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The great aristocrat then got up and headed towards the bedroom. She didn't particularly like her sister, but she did love her. Poor Bellatrix wasn't going to face this alone.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the middle of the Quidditch pitch when Minister Scrimgeour finally found him. The self-important git had brought along an entourage, but the flunkies wisely kept their distance. Only Rufus had the nerve to actually approach the Boy-Who-Had-Saved-Them-Again.

"Is he dead?" Rufus asked without preamble.

Harry looked over at the wizard. "Was he dead the last time?"

"That is a very interesting question, and one I don't have a conclusive answer for. The Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries can't seem to make up their bloody minds one way or another."

"I killed Tom Riddle," Harry offered. "Trust me, I really killed him. But I have no idea if he will stay dead this time. Headmaster Dumbledore might have been able to give you an answer, but Riddle murdered him before he could share that information with us."

"What about Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy?" Rufus asked. "Vance and Tonks told me the two dark witches were with Riddle when he attacked you out in the Forbidden Forest."

"Lestrange is no longer a threat to anyone. As for Mrs Malfoy... she is on a little vacation right now. I've no idea when or if she will be returning to Britain," Harry answered truthfully.

"I could charge you for not cooperating with a Ministry investigation, but my Aurors claim your abilities at wandless magic are nothing short of miraculous."

Harry jumped to his feet with surprising speed, and turned to face Rufus. His nerves were raw at the moment, and he had no patience for verbal fencing. "Minister Scrimgeour, please believe me when I say that I've no wish to be your enemy."

"I don't know if we can avoid being enemies given the current political situation here in Britain. Riddle may be gone, but the pureblood movement is alive and well."

"Then you will just have to decide who is the bigger danger to your political survival: the pureblood élite or me," Harry observed. This threat was delivered in a soft voice, but that only made it more effective.

Rufus laughed nervously. "Potter, you are better at this sort of thing than Albus Dumbledore ever was."

"I will be out of the country until the New Year. You can inform me of your plans when I return."

Without another word Harry returned to the castle. He remembered very little of the week that followed. The news of Riddle's death was being kept a secret, so the other students were treating him the same as always. Well, Tonks was acting a bit odd. The Auror was so grateful for what he did out in the Forbidden Forest that she attempted to seduce him on a daily basis. He wasn't interested, a fact which only aroused her more.

Harry was so reluctant to return to the Academy that he decided to take the Hogwarts Express, since it would kill a few hours. During the long trip to London he was struck by a bolt of inspiration.

"Luna, how would you and your father Xenophilius like to spend the holidays with me?"

Hermione immediately stuck her nose in the conversation. "But I though you were living at Hogwarts this year? Do you move, and if so where did you move to? And can the rest of us come and visit?"

With both Albus and Tom dead, Harry wasn't as concerned about losing secrets visa via Legilimency. A small part of him was also hoping someone would be stupid enough to attack the Academy. A bit of violence would be a wonderful distraction.

"I bought a tropical island. You, Ron, and Ginny are spending the holidays with your families, which means you won't have time for a visit. Luna lives alone with her father, so that's why I invited her."

"Can we visit you during the summer?" a hopeful Ginny asked.

"Perhaps. So, what do you say Luna?"

Her smile was so painfully sincere that Harry had to turn away. The Ravenclaw pointed out that she would have to ask her father before making any plans, which is what they did when they reached King's Cross Station. Xenophilius Lovegood agreed to the proposal at once, and Harry had a feeling the man wasn't all there mentally. This hypothesis was confirmed when he opened a Gateway. Neither father nor daughter raised a pale eyebrow at this unusual display of magic.

"Look, it is Stubby Boardman!" Luna shouted when Sirius and Remus came out to greet them.

"You know Stubby?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Everyone knows Stubby Boardman," Luna replied with exaggerated patience. "He was the lead singer for the Hobgoblins."

Sirius and Remus could barely keep a straight face as they listen to this exchange. In less than an hour everyone on the island was calling the Marauder by his new name. Luna and Xenophilius seemed to be enjoying themselves, but Harry wasn't really paying attention to his guests. He kept looking around for Narcissa or Bellatrix, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"She is still alive," Remus said as he sat down next to Harry on the beach where they had all gathered to watch the sunset.

"Am I being that obvious?"

"You should go to her," the werewolf said. "Before it's too late."

Narcissa wasn't happy to see him. She simply pointed to one of the bedrooms and left. An older Argonauts was standing guard, so Harry ordered him outside. When he entered the bedroom he found Bellatrix curled up in a ball on the floor. Her body was perfectly still, but her eyes followed his every move.

It was well after midnight when she finally spoke. "How could you have done this to me?"

"You committed hundreds of crimes as a Death Eater."

"It was a war."

"Try telling that to Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"You are just using them as an excuse," Bellatrix hissed. "I rejected you, so you lashed out at me in the worst way possible."

"I see you're still as self-absorbed as ever," Harry remarked. "Do you remember the first time we made love? I asked for your hand in marriage, and you rejected me back then too. Not only that, but in the following months you kept prancing around in the nude. I was slowly going insane thanks to the Dark One's taint on Saidin, but you felt the need to continuously taunt me with your body."

"I could not marry you without the permission of my near-sister Elayne Trakand. It would have been dishonorable."

"The fate of the entire world was resting on my shoulders at the time, and I needed you!" Harry shouted. "Maybe that was a bit more important than your bloody sense of honor! Did you even consider that?"

"My honor..."

Harry rolled over her. "And now in this life you sided with Tom Riddle of all people. Why do you think I wanted him dead?"

"You wanted to destroy the pureblood..."

"I don't give a rat's ass about your purebloods. They can go on screwing their first cousins until the end of time for all I care. What I care about is the Dark One's prison, and the fact that Riddle was in danger of opening it by accident."

"Tom Riddle sought to free the Dark One?" a shocked Bellatrix asked. "I swear to you that he never spoke of such a plan."

"I would have shared this information with you, but you felt the need to stab with a spear of Fire during our first meeting," Harry snarled. "I've brought your sister Narcissa a new student, so you now have a choice. You can stay in this bedroom until you rot, or you can help train Luna."

"How can I possible train the girl without access to Saidar?"

"Did the Maidens of the Spear use Saidar in battle? Half of the Wise Ones lacked the ability to channel, but they were still the equals of those who could. As I said, the choice is yours."

* * *

When Tom Riddle was growing up at the orphanage, one of his first exposures to magic was a crude storybook about Merlin and his cave of power. It was also in a cave by the sea where he had performed some his most dangerous spells as an untrained boy. Later he had hidden one of his horcruxes there. And at Hogwarts he had searched obsessively for the Chamber of Secrets, which was basically a cave hidden beneath the castle.

So it was understandable that caves held a special significance for Riddle, and that was why he was sitting in one twenty meters below the city of Norwich. The wizard was completely naked, but that didn't concern him. What concerned him was the three horcruxes in front of him: the Gaunt Family Ring, Albus Dumbledore's Wand, and Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak. Somehow these three horcruxes had spontaneously resurrected him without the aid of any rituals.

It was a puzzle he was having difficulty solving. Riddle picked up his Family Ring, and studied it under the ball of light he had effortlessly summoned upon waking. A Cloak, a Wand, and... a Stone? Surely that was just a fairy tale. He would have to study the matter further.

There was no sense in wasting any more time, so Riddle open the trunk full of supplies he had placed here a few weeks ago. The clothes were muggle in style, but hiding among the freaks would offer him a measure of security. Unless... he quickly checked his face. Yes, he still had a nose and a full head of hair. But what about his eyes? Luckily there was a mirror at the bottom of the trunk.

"Well, that is something you don't see everyday," Riddle mused aloud as he studied the handsome reflection in the mirror.

His eyes were now completely black.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry Potter was in a rotten mood. He had never given Saint Valentine's Day much thought before, but this year the holiday was a source of profound irritation. It was also a Monday, and that never helped matters. Worse of all he was currently dueling Michael Corner in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As a once and future Auror, Professor Vance believed the best way to learn was to cast spells against a live target. Unfortunately she had asked her star pupil to "take it easy" on his classmates, and that took all the fun out of these mock duels.

"Do you want to take a break Mike?" Harry asked after beating the boy for the fourth time in less than sixty seconds. Personally he thought that showed a great deal of restraint on his part, but the Ravenclaws didn't seem to agree.

"That's it Potter, you're dead!" Terry Boot shouted. The furious bookworm cast a Stinging Hex, and the others Ravenclaws soon joined in with curses of their own.

_This is more like it_, Harry thought to himself as he whirled his fake wand in the air like some manic orchestra conductor. Blocking this many magical spells at once was a delicate task, especially since he didn't want them to hit any innocent bystanders.

Speaking of innocent bystanders. Unlike the other brave Gryffindors who were cowering beneath their desks, Hermione had stepped forward into the middle of the battlefield. She was no doubt hoping to play the part of a peacemaker, but the Ravenclaws were having none of it. Harry managed to shield her for the most part, but Lisa Turpin got in a lucky Twitchy Ears Hex.

It was harmless spell, but it still enraged Harry who loved Hermione like the sister he would never have. The wands of every single Ravenclaw flew out of their hands, and came to a stop right in front of him. Slowly this collection of wands began to bend in half.

At this point Professor Vance finally stepped forward. "Mr Potter, I don't think snapping their wands will be necessary. Each of the students will lose a hundred points for this unprovoked attack. That is a reasonable punishment, don't you think?"

"A hundred points each!" Padma Patil shrieked as her twin Parvati mocked her from across the room. "That means Ravenclaw will have no chance of winning the House Cup this year."

"Make that two hundred points each, since your behavior today was such a disgrace," Professor Vance said coldly. "Class is dismissed."

Even the Gryffindors realized this punishment was unfair, and nervous students all fled in a matter of seconds. Harry stomped down the hallway in the opposite direction, but Hermione insisted on following him. The witch didn't say anything, she simply grabbed his arm and dragged him into the nearest empty broom closet.

"What is wrong with you?"

"The Ravenclaws pulled their wands first. All I did was defend you," Harry answered politely. "Professor Vance punished them, not me."

Hermione snorted. "Of course you weren't punished. She is terrified of you, just like all the other professors."

"What _**in the name of Merlin**_ are you talking about?" The Aes Sedai in Harry loved using that phrase.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed how all the professors treat you differently now. Do you know that Gryffindor hasn't lost a single house point since the holidays?"

That wasn't surprising to Harry, since the staff knew that he had killed Tom Riddle. Minister Scrimgeour was keeping the public in the dark though, so his fellow students still had no idea what was going on.

"No, I haven't been paying attention to things like that lately."

"How can you be so brilliant in your classes, but so oblivious everywhere else?" an exasperated Hermione asked. "I suppose you haven't heard the latest rumor? It's the reason all the Ravenclaws are so angry with you."

"What did I do now?" Harry asked. He didn't really care about Hogwarts gossip, but his best friend clearly thought this bit of news was important.

Hermione leaned in close and whispered: "They say you murdered Luna Lovegood and her father."

Now that was kind of interesting. "Honestly? The Ravenclaws never seem to care about Luna when she was actually here, so why would they be upset that I murdered her?"

"Harry, you aren't taking this seriously! Tell me what happened to the Lovegoods."

"Do you think that I murdered them?"

Hermione slapped him in arm. "Or course not, but I'm curious to know what really happened. I mean you took the two of them away to your new tropical island, and all of a sudden Luna drops out of Hogwarts and her father shuts down the _Quibbler_. It doesn't make sense to anyone—including me."

Harry pondered the situation for a few moments. There was no good reason to keep his secrets from Hermione any longer, especially now that Lovegoods of all people knew the truth. Given her intelligence and above-average magical strength she would make an excellent Aes Sedai. One who was completely loyal to him, not to the British Ministry of Magic or any other magical government.

"Do you trust me Hermione?"

"With my life. You know that."

"Then stand very close to me, and don't move." Harry seized Saidin, and opened a Gateway to the Academy right there in the broom closet. It was a display of skill and precision that only a handful of Aes Sedai could have matched. "Let's go see what Luna and her father have to say about this silly rumor."

"What is that thing?" Hermione asked as she studied the Gateway.

"Don't touch the edge!" Harry snapped as he grabbed her outstretched hand. "The edge of a Gateway is a thousand times sharper than any razor blade. It can cut solid rock in half, so you don't want to see what it does to human flesh. Consider that your first lesson about the One Power."

"What is the One Power?"

"Come on, the answers are waiting for you on the other side," Harry said as he walked through the Gateway.

A moment later Hermione followed. She spent the next several minutes looking around the island in wonder. "Where are we?"

"Just off the coast of Central America."

"That's a distance of over 8,000 kilometers. The longest recorded apparition in history is less than 1,000 kilometers, and the accepted limit for a portkey is only 2,000 kilometers. And those records were set under optimal conditions, not starting off from a Hogwarts' broom closet."

"You are so adorable when you spout-off facts like that," Harry said with a smile. He needed to start documenting all the information he remembered from the Age of Legends, and his best friend would be perfect for the job.

"Hermione Granger!"

They turned to see Luna running towards them. She was wearing a floral sarong, and her formerly pale skin was now a golden brown. But the biggest change was her beautiful smile: the sad little girl who had attended Hogwarts was nowhere to be seen. Harry could only hope that these changes were permanent.

Hermione was a natural-born hugger, and she quickly had the younger girl wrapped up in her arms. "It is so good to see you, and I love what you've done with your hair."

"Luna, could you please take Hermione to see Stubby and Remus? Tell those two idiots that she needs to know the full story. I will join you all in a few minutes."

Before either girl could protest, Harry began walking towards the sparring grounds. During the Age of Legends, Aes Sedai believed that physical fitness allowed an individual to maximize their potential when it came to channeling. To that end he had encouraged the Argonauts to begin exercising as much as possible. To everyone's amazement, Bellatrix had recently offered to act as their hand-to-hand combat instructor.

As Harry approached the sparring ground he noticed that Luna wasn't the only one to have changed. Bellatrix actually looked like a Maiden of the Spear, albeit one with black hair. In addition to her now-short locks, she had acquired a light brown coat and matching trousers. She also had on a pair of knee-high boots, and taken together her outfit could almost pass for the _Cadin'sor_ the Aiel would one day wear in the distant future.

"How goes the training Argus?"

"Very well, my Lord," the old squib replied. They both watched as Bellatrix slammed one of the Argonauts into the ground. She than twisted the man's arm until his shoulder dislocated with a sickening pop. "I must say that I approve of Lestrange's teaching methods. Our healer Starkey is getting plenty of practical experience thanks to her efforts."

As the others removed the latest victim on a stretcher, Harry stepped forward. "Are you up a challenge _Far Dareis Mai_?"

Bellatrix didn't waste a second, and her right foot came within centimeters of disemboweling him. The Aiel believed in ending a fight as quickly as possible, and if a single blow landed it was usually enough permanently incapacitate or even kill an opponent. Luckily Harry remembered his training. He was able to block her various attacks, but his arms and legs started to take a severe beating.

"Fight back," Bellatrix hissed.

That was something Harry could not do. Instead he remained on the defensive and managed to stay on his feet for nearly five minutes. They fell into a pleasant rhythm, and it was almost as if they were dancing. Bellatrix finally ended the fight with a sharp jab to his side. It was the same spot where she had stabbed him during their duel in Hogsmeade.

"Pathetic Wetlander," she sneered when he dropped to the ground. To be fair, his young body wasn't used to this sort of thing.

"Hey boys, I think Lestrange needs to be taught a lesson," one of the Argonauts shouted, and the others quickly voiced their agreement. "No one treats Lord Potter that way."

"She is to be left alone," Harry said as he slowly got to his feet. "I want you all to remember the valuable lesson you learned here today. Without the One Power we are simply men—men who can be beaten even by an old lady like Lestrange. That's why you're all learning to defend yourselves, and that's why you're all carrying muggle revolvers now. If you rely too heavily on Saidin at some point you will come to regret it. Trust me, I learned this lesson the hard way."

"Someone actually managed to shield you my Lord?" an amazed Argus asked. "But you are so incredibly strong."

"A Circle of thirteen women once caught me with my pants down, metaphorically speaking," Harry admitted. "After I was cut-off from Saidin they shoved me in a wooden box about a meter long, and they only took me out once a day to be flogged."

"How did you finally manage to escape?" Argus asked.

"That's a story for another time."

"Do you want me to heal your injuries, my Lord?" Starkey asked.

"No, I earned these bruises," he replied. That didn't make any sense, but the squibs never questioned their young leader's odd behavior.

Harry slowly limped towards the house the Argonauts had built for him as a Christmas present. Not only was it spacious, but it also had built-in plumbing. One of the squibs Argus had recruited was a former plumber, and he was doing wonders with the island's crude sanitation system. You had to heat the water yourself, but that was a minor inconvenience. Five minutes after he had sat down in his comfortable bathtub, Bellatrix walked in. The Aiel didn't view nudity as a source of embarrassment, so she had no problem standing there watching him bathe.

"That fight doesn't make us even."

"I know," Harry said as he tried to clean behind his ears with his sore hands. "Nothing can make up for the crimes you've committed."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know what you were trying to say, but I'm not interested in playing any games with you."

Bellatrix seemed to wrestling with some decision, but then she finally spoke. "Given all that has happened since we were last together, I sometimes forget how much you have suffered. You have always been a man of great honor, and I'm deeply ashamed to have suggested otherwise."

"My Uncle Vernon made me sleep in a cupboard beneath the stairs when I was younger," Harry told her as he began scrubbing his sore feet. "I never knew why I hated it so much. I use to beg Aunt Petunia to let me out, but she never did. Now I realize that on some subconscious level it reminded me of the time when the Aes Sedai kept me in that bloody box. When I first regained my memories of Lews Therin and Rand al'Thor, I thought that my former life as Harry Potter was gone forever," he continued. "But with each day I'm less and less sure of that conclusion. Was my decision to sever you the act of a mature leader or that of a vindictive teenager? I honestly don't know anymore."

Harry looked up and saw that Bellatrix was beginning to undress. It was a wonderful sight. She quickly hopped in the tub, all the while covering her breasts. "There is nothing wrong with them," he assured her.

"They are so small," she complained.

Since there was no correct way to respond to that comment, Harry instead gently ran his fingertips along her exposed side. He could count her ribs. Bellatrix was far too skinny, but despite that and her age she was still beautiful in his eyes. And she was still his wife—no matter what name she went by in this Age.

"So, do you forgive me?"

"I will never forgive you for severing me from Saidar. Even so I still want you. I fear that I always will."

* * *

Remus Lupin was a nervous man. No strike that, he was a terrified man. Sirius believed his godson would never harm them. Intellectually the dumb dog knew that Harry had once been a powerful leader, but emotionally he still saw him as Prongs' little baby boy. Remus was suffering under no such delusion. He knew there was an excellent chance Harry would order his execution tonight, and that Argus Filch would gladly carry out the sentence if given the order.

He looked over at Cissy, who was having an intense discussion with Luna and Hermione on the other side of the stone amphitheater. When she noticed him looking over she winked. Remus never thought he would have Cissy Black as a lover, not in a million years. Of course he had very little to do with it. He simply found her in his bed one night, and things had progressed from there. Not that he was complaining, since he had long carried a torch for the witch. All the boys at Hogwarts had.

"Try to relax," Sirius said as he handed Remus a cold beer. It was the good muggle stuff, not that weak butterbeer crap they use to drink in Hogsmeade. "If Trixie really made a man out of Harry today, then it's the perfect time to tell him the good news."

Speaking of the devil. "And what good news is that Stubby?"

"Harry!" Hermione shouted when she saw him. "Where have you been all this time? I have a million questions for you."

Remus got a short reprieve when the muggleborn witch dragged the boy over to where Luna was sitting with her father Xenophilius. Hermione did indeed have a million questions, and Harry was willing to answer some of them for a change. Sirius and Remus had heard bits and pieces of the story before, but now they were treated to the full biography of the Dragon Reborn. Shagging Trixie really had put him in a good mood.

"That is the most outlandish story I've ever heard," Hermione said an hour later when Harry was finally finished.

"He isn't lying little girl," Bellatrix said as she fondled the handle of her long hunting knife. None of them had seen or heard her approach the amphitheater. "I was there for the last two years of Rand al'Thor's life, and all of it transpired just as he described."

"How can you doubt your own eyes?" Luna asked Hermione as a stream of seawater flowed around her head like a halo. The girl was brilliant at working with Saidar, and in many ways she had already surpassed her teacher. Cissy wasn't happy about that at all.

Hermione suddenly looked frightened. "If I want to learn how to channel like you I will have to leave Hogwarts, won't I?"

"Magic is so cold and so small," Luna replied. "Why would you want to waste your time studying at Hogwarts when you can learn about the One Power with us?"

"I hope to bring my son Draco here one day," Cissy told her. "All you have to do is embrace Saidar just once, and you will know that you've made the right decision."

"Before I was just blind fool, but with Saidin I can finally see the world in all its glory," Sirius remarked as he ran his hand through Esmeralda's long, dark hair.

"I never knew you were such a poet Stubby," Remus joked. The former playboy had fallen hard for his new lover, a fact which still amazed him.

Hermione wasn't convinced just yet that she should throw away her education at Hogwarts. "But what about Transfiguration and Potions and Quidditch?" she wailed.

There wasn't a cloud in the late afternoon sky, but when Harry raised his hand in the air a bolt of lightning exploded out of nowhere. Then another, and then another. "You can stay here at the Academy and learn how to do that. Or I can take you back to Hogwarts so you can learn how to transfigure an ottoman into an aardvark."

"Getting a potion right is intellectually challenging the first time around, but after that the work gets very boring very quickly," Cissy offered.

"And you hate Quidditch," Luna added.

"There is no rush Hermione. Think it over for as long as you like," Harry told her. "Now Remus, Stubby said you had some good news for me."

Instead of answering, Remus slowly emptied his mind. He then reached out and seized the raging torrent that was Saidin. Instantly the power of all five of his senses increased dramatically. Sirius was right: the One Power allowed you to see the world as it truly is, not the pale copy we experience in our everyday lives.

Harry slowly walked over towards him, and Remus could sense the massive amount of Saidin the boy was holding. At that moment he finally understood why Harry had been called the Dragon. If anything, the title wasn't terrifying enough.

"I left orders that no werewolf was to be trained."

Sirius quickly came to his defense. "Remus was wrapped in heavy chains during the full moon, and we both agreed that I would kill him if he changed into his werewolf form. We didn't leave anything to chance."

"So your lycanthropy is cured?" a skeptical Harry asked.

"I've been through two full moons without a transformation," Remus replied. "Perhaps if we trained another werewolf we might be able to learn more about how the process works."

"No, we will continue to study you—and you alone. Your probation is far from being over," Harry stated firmly. "Argus."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"How have your scouting trips to the Untied States and Canada gone? Have you made contact with their squib communities?"

"Yes, we have been able to find a number of possible recruits, both men and women. They are poor with no close relations, and they would all be thrilled at a chance to learn," Argus explained. "To be honest my Lord, most of them would be happy with a roof over their heads and three square meals a day."

"I want twenty volunteers by the end of the week. Ten men and ten women that we can trust."

Cissy coughed into her delicate hand. "Harry... Lord Potter, I don't know if that is such a good idea. I'm having trouble teaching Miss Lovegood, and I don't think I can handle ten squibs."

"You only have to teach them two things: how to embrace Saidar, and how to form a Circle," Harry snapped. "Luna and Hermione will handle the more advance weaves under my personal supervision."

"But I haven't even made up my mind yet to study here at the Academy," Hermione protested.

"You will," a smiling Luna told her.

Harry turned to face Sirius and Remus. "You disobeyed a direct order. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"It worked," Sirius offered lamely.

"You've all been lucky so far," Harry said as he rubbed his temples. "The One Power is far more dangerous than the magic you were taught at Hogwarts. Your lack of discipline is going to get you killed, which doesn't bother me. That fact that you might accidentally take this whole island with you does bother me a great deal."

"Nothing like this will happen again," Remus promised, and he meant it. "Thanks to you my lycanthropy has been cured, and that's a debt I can never repay. If Stubby here gets out of line, I will deal with him."

Harry sighed. "No, Argus will deal with you both."

* * *

Hermione said she needed more time to think, so they returned to Hogwarts that night. During the next few days Harry often caught her staring intently at her wand. She would cast random spells for no reason at all, and would spend hours at a time muttering under her breath. Ron thought she was going crazy. After a week of this she finally came to a decision.

"If I stay here in Britain I will never be anything more than a clever mudblood," Hermione explained. "No matter what I accomplish, I will never viewed as the equal of the purebloods. But if I accept your offer than I will become one of first female Aes Sedai in history. I won't just be reading books anymore, I will be writing them."

"What will your parents say?" Harry asked.

"They have never been happy about my attendance at Hogwarts. So I will tell them the truth: that I've been offered a full scholarship to a much more advanced and egalitarian school."

"You're acting like an Aes Sedai already," Harry told her. "During the Third Age they were infamous for their deceitful wordplay."

"I wouldn't be lying to them, not really," Hermione protested. "Would it be alright if my parents came to the island sometime? I hate the fact that they were never allowed to visit Hogwarts."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea to me. So, are you already packed?"


	13. Chapter 13

Only a handful of people knew that Severus Snape lived at Spinner's End, and all but one of those people was now dead. As a result the knock on the front door came as a shock. The house was heavily warded, which meant it wasn't a muggle. His contacts in the Ministry of Magic all agreed that there was no warrant out for his arrest, which meant it wasn't the Aurors. Who could it be? There was only one way to find out, so he reluctantly opened the door. Standing there in the flesh was Tom Riddle.

"My Lord! They said you were dead."

"Aren't you going to invite me in Severus? Winter tends to linger here in the North of England."

"Please come in. I wasn't expecting company, so if you will allow me?" The Dark Lord nodded his head as he entered the decrepit house. A flick of the potion master's wand cleared the messy sitting room, and summoned several plates from the kitchen. "Would you care for some refreshments?"

"A cup of tea and a few biscuits would be lovely," Tom said as he sat down on the threadbare sofa.

Severus was thankful for something to do, since it give him a moment to think. According to everything the remaining Death Eaters had been able to learn, James Potter's wretched spawn had killed the Dark Lord a second time. Even the Minister of Magic believed this to be true, and Rufus Scrimgeour hated Harry Potter almost as much as he did.

Yet the Dark Lord was sitting right there. Severus was sure it was him. His specialized wards were designed to deal with Polyjuice Potion imposters and metamorphmagi. The eyes were new though. When he had taken the Dark Mark as a teenager, the Dark Lord's eyes had been a deep crimson color. After his first rebirth they had been a common brown, but now they were black. He had studied the Dark Arts his entire life, but he knew of no spell or ritual which turned the whites of the eye completely black in color.

After placing a cup of hot tea in front of his Master, he sat down in silence. Even on his best days Severus was useless at small talk. There was also the fact that a poorly chosen word could earn him a lengthy Cruciatus Curse. So he did the only sensible thing: he kept his month shut as the Dark Lord munched on stale almond biscuits.

"These are delicious."

"You are too kind, my Lord."

"So, my loyal Death Eaters are once again under the mistaken impression that I am dead?"

"Minister Scrimgeour, Director Bones, and Chief Auror Shacklebolt all believe it. And as you can see the Dark Mark is gone," Severus replied as he rolled up his sleeve and held out his forearm. The magical tattoo had vanished on the day of Potter's supposed victory.

The Dark Lord leaned forward, and began poking at his exposed flesh like a young child. Severus had the horrible feeling that the wizard's questionable mental health had deteriorated even further since their last meeting. That illegal but highly lucrative job offer to brew the Felix Felicis Potion for the investment bankers at Goldman Sachs was looking more attractive every minute.

"I suppose I should tell you that I was indeed dead, but only for a short time. The Grim Reaper had me, but once again I manage to escape from his icy grasp," Tom explained in a sing-song fashion.

"That is astonishing."

"Yes, isn't it." This reply was followed by another lengthy silence as the Dark Lord finished off the rest of the almond biscuits.

"If I may ask my Lord, why are you here?"

"I simply wanted you to know that I'm still alive, and that you should continue to carry out the orders I've given you. All of the other Death Eaters will receive visits like this in the following days." Tom paused to take a long sip of tea before continuing. "The war marches ever onwards, and we all must do our parts, no matter how insignificant."

After a decade of iron self-control this insulting comment finally caused Severus Snape to snap. He had sacrificed his very soul to ensure the survival the magical world. He had betrayed the memory of Lily Evans, the only woman he had ever loved, and made common cause with the man who murdered her. He had also betrayed Albus Dumbledore, a wizard he had tremendous respect for. Severus had done all this because he believed the Dark Lord was the only wizard strong enough to lead them to a victory over the muggles. But now his great savior was acting like a buffoon.

"The Ministry of Magic is stronger than ever despite the recent death of Dumbledore. Your Death Eaters are demoralized, and the common wizard in the street mocks you as a half-blood imposter," Severus ranted. "Worst of all you have been killed **twice** by third-year student who is so stupid he can barely remember to tie his own shoes in the morning. This war of yours is a pathetic joke."

"I have killed wizards for saying far less."

"Then go ahead and kill me. It would be a blessed relief."

Despite his words, Severus did not expect to die. Yes, he would be tortured—probably at length—but his magical skills were too valuable to be wasted in an early grave. While steeling himself for the pain, he looked closely at the Dark Lord's new eyes. They were not completely black as he had first thought. Instead there were dozens, perhaps hundreds of tiny black specks. There were traveling across one eye and then over to the next in a straight line. It was as if there was a constant stream of black... energy running through the Dark Lord's head. Something must have gone terrible wrong with his latest rebirth.

The Dark Lord sighed theatrically as he place a hand on his chest. "Severus Snape, I confess myself... disappointed."

* * *

The next day Tom Riddle found himself riding the muggle Underground in London, reading the front page of the _Daily Telegraph_. According to the newspaper, a group of terrorists had detonated a large bomb in the Manchester neighborhood of Spinner's End. They had used an unknown type of bomb, but the police claimed it was equivalent to over 3,000 kilograms of TNT. The explosion had leveled close to a hundred homes, and it was felt by people over 60 kilometers away. Seismologists at a nearby university reported that the event had measured a respectable 3.4 on the Richter scale.

"This isn't what I had in mind," Tom muttered to himself.

In truth he had only wanted to torture Severus for a bit, since he was by far the most talented of the remaining Death Eaters. Tom had cast... no, he had channeled Fire and Spirit just has Gellert Grindelwald had taught him to. But something about the One Power had radically changed. It felt different—more intense and more violent. Much more violent. The... weave he used was a simply construct, but it quickly grew out of his control. It seemed alive, as if it wanted to cause as much death and destruction as possible.

His new lack of control was the main reason Tom was hiding among the muggles again. Surviving the debacle at Spinner's End had been a matter of luck. Or maybe it was fate. Maybe Harry Potter was the only real danger he faced now. But what a danger the boy was. Bellatrix had warned him not to underestimate this Dragon, but he had been too arrogant to listen to her advice.

As a leader Tom had two great strengths. One was his extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts. The second was his complete and utter ruthlessness. Compared to the One Power the Dark Arts were nothing more than cheap parlor tricks, so forming a Circle with Bellatrix and Narcissa had been his only hope of victory. He couldn't match Potter's experience, so instead he planned on overpowering the boy during an ambush. Unfortunately Tom's channeling was so clumsy that he accidentally hit the wrong target.

The boy's counterattack had been brutally efficient. Potter hadn't bothered to taunt him or ask for his surrender. No, he just killed his opponent without a moment's hesitation. It seemed that the Dragon was just as ruthlessness as he was—far more so than Dumbledore had been at any rate. The magical portraits at Hogwarts were no longer responding to his commands, so they must have been disable or destroyed. His teacher Grindelwald was most likely dead as well.

The current situation looked bleak. That bloody prophecy tied Potter and him together in a struggle to the death. Well, death really wasn't a problem anymore thanks to his three horcruxes, but being captured was a very real danger. Tom had no wish to spend the next thousand years locked away in some hell hole like Azkaban without access to the One Power. The Death Eaters were of no use, and without the Dark Mark he doubted if he could control them for any length of time.

Tom would just have to face Potter alone, but luckily the prophecy had no set time-limit. A year or two of study would allow him to improve his skill at channeling. He could also use that time to study the Deathly Hallows. Perhaps they could be used against the Dragon in someway. Yes, a nice long vacation from Britain sounded like a wonderful idea.

* * *

"You wanted to see me Headmistress McGonagall?"

Minerva stared at Harry Potter in silence as she tried to keep her emotions under control. This past year had been the worst in her life, and the Boy-Who-Lived was always at the center of her problems. But he wasn't the ultimate cause of those problems, she reminded herself. No, in the end it was all Tom Riddle's fault. In spite of that, she found herself hating the boy.

"Sit down Mr Potter."

Harry took a seat and glanced around at the empty walls where the spying portraits use to hang. His arrogant posture suggested that this office—the office of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts for the past thousand years—was of no great importance to him. Indeed, he was doing her a favor by simply showing up. She longed to give the boy a good thrashing. Where was that fool Argus Filch and his leather whips when she really needed him?

"I understand you have been spending a great deal of time with Miss Clearwater and several of the other muggleborn students. She was recently offered an apprenticeship, but turned it down. I want to know if you had anything to do with her foolish decision."

"I take that bastard Clive wants you to lean on young Penelope, so that she will reconsider her decision?" Harry asked.

"How dare you! Phillip Clive is one of the finest Arithmancers in Europe, and Miss Clearwater should consider herself fortunate to have been offered such a prestigious position."

"She is the Head Girl of Hogwarts and at the top of all her classes, yet the pig expects her to act as his personal whore just because she is a muggleborn. He even exposed himself during the interview—he claimed he wanted to evaluate her "technique". The man is seventy years-old and weighs over twenty-five stone."

"You are lying."

"You purebloods all stick together, don't you? When Penelope threatened to take the matter to the Ministry of Magic, Clive just laughed. He told the poor girl that no one would believe her accusation," Harry explained. "In the greater scheme of things I suppose you consider him a fellow progressive. He only wants to exploit the muggleborns like you do, not exterminate them like the Death Eaters."

"I have never once exploited my muggleborn students," Minerva hissed as she drew her wand.

"I have spoken at length with Hermione and Penelope about the lecture you gave their parents when they received their Hogwarts letters. Neither one of them had any idea of how prevalent racism was in the magical world. You deliberately withheld vital information from them in order to enroll more students here at Hogwarts."

Minerva wanted to deny his words, but she could not. Even during the height of the war in seventies, she had never once mentioned Tom Riddle and his racist agenda to the parents of the muggleborn students. They were usually so excited about the existence of magic that it just easier to gloss over certain unpleasant facts.

"Would you have denied the muggleborns the privilege of a magical education, a group which included your mother Lily?" Minerva countered.

"How many of the students you recruited were attacked, tortured, or even killed by Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters?" Harry asked rhetorically. "I would have given those students and their parents the information they needed to make an informed decision about their future. That is exactly what I'm doing now for Penelope and the other muggleborns."

"I suppose Miss Lovegood and Miss Granger had all the information they needed before they withdrew from Hogwarts?"

"Yes, they both chose to leave of their own free will, and neither one of them regrets their choice. In fact they are both far happier at the Farshaw Academy."

"So, this mysterious school of yours finally has a name. Why are you telling me all this now?"

"Because I'm withdrawing from school myself."

Here was yet another disaster for Minerva. The Boy-Who-Lived was abandoning Hogwarts, and taking several of the most-promising witches of his generation along with him. Rita Skeeter was going to have a field day with this story in the _Daily Prophet_. There was also an excellent chance the Board of Governors would sack her, especially if they found out about her less-than-professional behavior towards Potter.

"I don't suppose there is anything I can say to change your mind?" Minerva asked.

"No," Harry replied at once. "But don't worry. We will be seeing plenty of each other next year during the Tournament."

"You know about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Haven't you heard? It has been renamed the Pentawizard Tournament this year. The Salem Institute and the Farshaw Academy will both be participating, along with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang."

"How did you manage to arrange something like that without my knowledge?" a shocked Minerva asked.

"While the public doesn't know about the death of Tom Riddle, the news has percolated around the International Confederation of Wizards. They have also heard some pretty bizarre rumors about my new abilities."

"And allowing a student from your Academy to take part in the Tournament gives the other magical governments of the world a chance to learn more about your skill at wandless magic," Minerva reasoned. "I take it you will be acting as the Farshaw Champion? Was that part of your little backroom deal with the ICW?"

"Yes, of course."

Here was another reason to hate the boy. Minerva had long thought that as Albus Dumbledore's chosen successor she would inherit all his political posts. Becoming the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW or the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot seemed unlikely, but she had thought she would be asked to join both organizations. After all the Headmistress of Hogwarts was one of the most important jobs in the magical world, and her promotion automatically made her a very important witch.

However Minister Scrimgeour had rudely disabused her of these lofty ambitions. Rufus had no intention of appointing her to the ICW or the Wizengamot, not this year or at any time in the future. Yet Harry Potter, who was still just thirteen years-old, was already meeting with foreign ambassadors at the ICW. At the same time she was being kept in the dark concerning events that would take place at her own school. It was a public humiliation, pure and simple.

"Will you be taking down the wards you placed around Hogwarts?" Minerva asked, bringing up yet another sore subject.

"Headmaster Dumbledore told you about those before he was murdered? I find that hard to believe."

Minerva scowled. "He left me a lengthy letter concerning the matter, which I received only after his death. Albus claimed that it would be suicidal for me to attempt to remove them by myself. At first I thought it was some sort of prank, but then I realized Albus never would have joked about something so important."

"To answer your question: no, I will not be taking down those wards," Harry told her bluntly. "And Headmaster Dumbledore wasn't joking. You would die a quick death if you attempted to remove them using conventional methods. The same goes for the so-called Curse-Breakers of Gringotts."

"You are a third-year student," Minerva snapped. "You shouldn't even know what a magical ward is, let alone be able to cast one around something as massive as this castle."

"The wards exist. Your opinion of their origin is irrelevant."

"As the Headmistress of this school I am personally responsible for the safety of all the students. How am I suppose to do my job if I have no control over the school's defenses?"

"There are threats to Hogwarts you don't understand. Threats that only I can deal with. Headmaster Dumbledore trusted my judgment in this matter. You have no choice but to do the same."

"Mr Potter, if you are no longer going to attend Hogwarts, than how can you possibly act as its ultimate defender?" Minerva sniffed.

"I recently acquired ownership of the Shrieking Shack, and once the renovations are done I will be taking up residence there," Harry explained. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about."

Trust this boy? That was something she would never do. Albus had trusted Potter, and now he was dead. Minerva McGonagall did not fear death, but she did fear for the future of her beloved Hogwarts. And it was now perfectly clear to her that the boy wanted to destroy that future.


	14. Chapter 14

"Miss Granger, stop fidgeting," Headmistress Black said. The overbearing witch had entered the house Hermione shared with Luna and her father just a few minutes ago, and she was already giving orders. "It took a great deal of effort to make you look presentable, and I won't have you spoiling it less than an hour before your début."

Hermione slowly lowered her hands, and then suck her tongue out at Draco's mother. It wasn't her fault that Harry was making them wear these ridiculous uniforms. The shirt, trousers, and boots weren't too bad, but the jacket was a nightmare. The long tail fell down to her knees, and the high collar kept chafing at her neck. And the color! Everything she had on was blindingly white. The only decoration was a modified yin-yang symbol over her left breast. Unlike the traditional symbol found in Asian cultures, their version lacked the two small dots.

Still Hermione had to agree with the new Headmistress, she did look rather good today. The never-ending tropical heat had finally convinced her to chop-off her bushy brown locks. Her new haircut framed her young features rather well, especially with the light touches of makeup Luna had carefully applied. Best of all were her new teeth. She cried for an entire day after seeing what a wonderful job Healer Starkey had done correcting her overbite.

"Stop picking on her Cissy, the monkey suits are a bit much," Sirius added as he watched them get ready.

Everyone agreed that it would be a bad idea for "Stubby" to return to Britain, since the Ministry of Magic still thought he was dead. So instead of a uniform all he had on was a pair of lime-green shorts and a _Margaritaville_ t-shirt. One of the new American squibs had brought his collection of Jimmy Buffett records to the island, and Sirius quickly became the world's biggest Parrot Head. He even convinced Harry to make the country singer the Farshaw Academy's official poet laureate.

"I happen to think the monkey suits are quite fashionable."

Everyone turned to see Harry standing at the front door. His posture was so dignified that it seemed like he was born wearing that long coat. Now that he was no longer pretending to be a fourteen year-old boy his tendency to dominate others was becoming more and more pronounced. Hermione thought back to how Headmaster Dumbledore used to comport himself at Hogwarts. Compared to Harry the old wizard had acted like a bumbling clown.

"I was just joking," Sirius said defensively. "It's just that wizards usually prefer bright colors. Where did you get the idea to use white in the first place?"

Harry's eyes lost focus. "My brother Galadedrid Damodred wore a similar uniform when he was the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light."

"You never told us you had a brother," Luna said as she drifted over to Harry's side.

Of all the former wizards and witches at the Academy, Luna was by far the most devoted to their young leader. Hermione had the sinking feeling that the girl would never marry or even date another man in the coming years. How could they possible compete with her savior the Dragon Reborn?

"Galad was my half-brother actually. We barely knew each other, and spent only a few days together before my second death."

Bellatrix suddenly appeared at Harry's side. "What's wrong?"

Hermione hated the fact that the former Death Eater could move around the island without making a sound, but then she had so many reasons to hate the evil witch. Bellatrix insisted that they practice hand-to-hand fighting every day, and every day Healer Starkey had to mend her numerous and life-threatening injuries.

Even though she could no longer channel, Bellatrix still knew more about Saidar than anyone else in the world. Their daily lessons about theory often lasted for hours on end, and if Hermione was wrong about a single point she was severely punished. These punishments usually took the form of backbreaking physical labor. A month ago she had to dig a two meter deep hole with a tablespoon and then filling it back up again. Twice.

Harry never questioned Bellatrix's teaching methods, but that wasn't surprising. The witch was technically old enough to be his grandmother, yet they constantly did... **It**. All over the island, including on the various beaches. They didn't even try to be discrete about it. Even if they were married it was still scandalous behavior, but no one besides her seemed to care. In fact Sirius thought it was the only thing keeping the troubled pair from going insane.

"I was just thinking about Galad," Harry told his wife.

"He was gifted warrior, and by far the most beautiful man I've ever seen," a smirking Bellatrix observed.

"And his fiancée Berelain was a great beauty as well," Harry replied with a smirk of his own. "Those huge dark eyes, that long black hair, and a bosom that left men in awe."

"We are on a tight schedule," Headmistress Black said in a sharp voice. "Your twisted idea of foreplay will have to wait for another time."

When they reached the Traveling Grounds they found Remus and Argus Filch waiting for them. Harry had chosen this group carefully: there was pureblood, a half-blood, a muggleborn, a squib, and a werewolf. He wanted to send a message to the magical world—that the foolish divisions of the past had no place at his new Farshaw Academy.

When Remus saw them approached he cleared his throat. "Harry, I must ask you one last time: do you really want to go through with this? Our presence will be seen as provocative gesture. It might even be taken as a declaration of war by some of the more conservative elements at the ICW."

"I'm not going to spend anymore more time hiding who I am, or what I can do," Harry told the former werewolf. "Besides, if they want a war we are ready for them. Isn't that right, Argus?"

"My Lord, we will give those bastards a war they won't believe," the former Caretaker of Hogwarts replied.

Hermione looked over at the man—his sinister smile was a terrifying sight. She thought back to all the times she had been ridiculed by other the children at school. The squibs hadn't suffered through a few short years of that kind of abuse, they had suffered decades of it. Now Harry had finally given them the power to strike back at their tormentors. She could only pray that her best friend knew how to control the dangerous army he was creating.

"Form your Circles," Harry ordered.

Thankfully Hermione was assigned to Remus, while Headmistress Black was stuck with Argus. Slowly she cleared her mind of all emotion, and focused on a mental image of a rosebud. Saidar was waiting just out of reach, but she did not embrace it. That wasn't how you formed a Circle. Instead Hermione waited on the edge of all that vast power. After a minute or so Remus reached out to her as they linked. She could feel the ecstasy as Saidar flow through her body, but she had no control over that power.

Hermione could vaguely sense Remus' emotional state, and he could sense her emotions as well. That didn't bother her since he was such a good man, far better than the Headmistress deserved. At least they didn't rub their love affair in everyone's faces like Harry and his bloodthirsty amazon did. Hermione was also looking forward to seeing Draco's reaction to the news that his mother had replaced his father Lucius with a penniless werewolf.

"That was adequate, but you'll have to be much faster in a combat situation," Harry remarked as he opened a Gateway to Shrieking Shack. "It should take no more than a second or two to form a Circle, no matter the number of Aes Sedai involved."

An old guard greeted them as they walked through Gateway. One of the Argonauts was always stationed here to keep watch over Hogwarts. The job wasn't hard to do since the Shrieking Shack had been remodeled. It now towered over the rest of Hogsmeade, and offered a clear view of the castle. Also visible in the distance was the enchanted sailing ship which brought the students from Durmstrang here to Hogwarts. There was also a large yellow school bus parked near the Black Lake, which was something you didn't see everyday.

"Harry, can I have a word with you?" Hermione asked as the five of them headed towards the castle.

"You are worried about how young Ronald is going to react when we enter the Great Hall."

"I really hate the fact when you know what I'm going to say before I even say it."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I have a great deal of experience with puberty, since I've gone through it three separate times. To answer your next question: asking him out would be a mistake. A healthy relationship between two people requires more than physical attraction."

"That's rich coming from you of all people," Hermione huffed.

"Bellatrix wants to be the best at everything she does. She isn't driven by ego, but rather by a need to be useful to her clan. Or her society, to use a more modern expression. In this way our personalities are very similar," Harry explained as they reached the front gate. "Headmistress Black, it's time for you to earn your princely salary."

"In case you have forgotten, I'm working _pro bono publico_." Narcissa replied.

"And here I thought a good Slytherin would know that the knowledge I'm sharing with you is far more valuable than mere gold," Harry chided.

There was a tension between the two of them that always made Hermione anxious. Narcissa was the only real candidate to be the "public" leader of the Academy, since Remus was a werewolf and Xenophilius Lovegood actually was as crazy as everyone thought. Since she was a pureblood aristocrat the new Headmistress would be accepted by her social peers. She would also know how to conduct business with them behind closed doors.

Still, Hermione had asked more than once if they could really trust her. After all she was the widow of a known Death Eater. Harry patiently explained that Narcissa's son Draco made her a reliable ally. She wanted the foolish boy to be trained as an Aes Sedai, and that would only happen if Harry gave his permission. So basically they were blackmailing her.

Their group entered the Great Hall in the midst of a massive light show. Dozens of animals in all shapes and sizes were flying about, and they seemed to be made of a warm silver light. Hermione thought this aerial ballet of magic was very pleasing to the eye.

"It's the Patronus Charm," an impressed Remus whispered. "It's pretty advanced spell-casting for wizards and witches who haven't graduated from school yet."

Thanks to their garish robes Hermione could tell that the students casting the Charms were from the Salem Institute. The odd patterns and multiple colors made them look like walking rainbows. The students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were dressed much more to her liking, with their stylish red and blue ensembles. Meanwhile the simple black robes of the Hogwarts students looked boring when compared to all that colorful pageantry.

Once the silver animals faded away, the Salem students made their way over to the Hufflepuff table. The Ravenclaws were entertaining the Beauxbatons delegation, while the Slytherins were playing host to their fellow dark wizards from Durmstrang. Hermione noted with some amusement that one of the larger prefects had to physically restrain Draco when he first saw his mother.

Draco wasn't the only one who noticed their arrival. Soon the entire Great Hall was staring at them. Now that they had everyone's attention Headmistress Black lead them down the center aisle towards the High Table. Hermione finally understood what Harry was trying to do with his new uniforms. There was no mistaking them for ordinary wizards and witches. Not anymore.

Narcissa chose to ignore Headmistress McGonagall, and instead addressed the Minister of Magic. "Rufus, it is so good to see you again after all this time."

"You only brought two students with you?" Scrimgeour asked brusquely. "Two students, a werewolf, and an old squib?"

"We believe in quality, not quantity," Narcissa replied, ignoring the fact that Remus had just been publicly outed as a werewolf.

"Quality?" Scrimgeour made the word sound obscene. The Minister of Magic wasn't happy about their participation in the Tournament, but he wanted more information about Harry just like every other magical government in the world. "Mr Potter, perhaps you could give us a demonstration of this... quality."

Harry stepped forward and addressed Professor Flitwick. "Sir, would you be so kind as to tell the audience which Charm the first-years are taught on Halloween."

The tiny professor smiled. "If I remember my class syllabus correctly, it is usually the Levitation Charm."

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry said as he raised his hand in the air. Everyone could see that he wasn't using a wand.

Hermione watched in awe as her friend used flows of Air to lift every table and chair in the Great Hall exactly ten centimeters off the stone floor. Every single one. The process was so smooth that many of the students didn't realize they were now floating. Hermione was by far the strongest of the new female Aes Sedai, but she could only split her weaves two or three times at most. Harry had just split his weaves two or three **hundred** times.

"That's an impressive trick you've got there, Potter," Scrimgeour admitted. "How long can you maintain the Charm?"

"I will cancel it when the Tournament is over in June," Harry replied. "Shall we begin the feast?"

The Minister of Magic clearly had more questions for the Boy-Who-Lived, but he wasn't going to ask them in front of this crowd of international witnesses. Instead he nodded his head, and a lavish feast appeared on the various tables. The poor house-elves had outdone themselves tonight.

While Narcissa took a seat at the High Table next to the Minister, the rest of them went over to eat with the Gryffindors. Hermione had been dreading this moment for weeks, but there were only a few hostile faces at their old table. Unfortunately one of those hostile faces belonged to Ronald. He was just as gorgeous as she remembered.

Another problem was Argus, who sat down directly across from the Weasley twins. Everyone could sense that he was looking for an excuse to start a fight. He was still linked to Narcissa, so his weaves would end up destroying half of the Great Hall if he started channeling. Remus took a seat next to the squib, and then using their Circle to weave a Shield. Hopefully it wouldn't be needed tonight.

It was the normally shy Neville Longbottom who finally broke the lengthy silence that followed. "It's good to see you again, Harry. And you too Hermione."

"It's good to see you as well, Neville. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

That was an odd way to start a conversation, but Hermione understood why Harry was so uncomfortable around his former classmate. Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters had turned the Longbottoms into drooling vegetables, yet Harry was now doing... **It** with her every night. And every morning. And most afternoons. The fact that he felt bad about the mess served him right.

"I wouldn't mind learning how you cast so many Charms without using a wand," Neville said as he looked down at his floating chair.

Harry reached over and placed his hand on the boy's forearm. It was the kind of reassuring gesture that a father might use on a nervous child. "We will talk about that subject during the next few weeks, I promise you."

"So Hermione... your hair and your new school uniform." That grating voice belonged to her arch-nemesis Lavender Brown, and she could only imagine what kind of catty remark was coming next. "I must say that you look absolutely fabulous."

The rest of the evening went surprising well. Many of the students in the Great Hall climbed under their tables and attempted to counter Harry's unusual Levitation Charm. They all failed. The twins showed some common sense for once in their lives, and didn't provoke Argus. It probably saved them both from a painful death. The other Gryffindors were full of questions, and Harry was able to answer most of them without giving away any real information. Ron was still acting like a major prat, but to her surprise Hermione found that she didn't really care.

* * *

"This is so much fun, we should do it more often," a cheerful Luna said as they climbed one of the stone towers of Hogwarts using nothing more than their bare hands.

"Be silent," Bellatrix whispered, but there was no real heat in her voice. To be honest it was nearly impossible for her to become angry with the girl.

If Luna had been born an Aiel, Bellatrix was certain she would have joined the Maidens of the Spear. Unlike that clumsy oaf Granger she was quick, agile, and not afraid to spill blood when it was necessary. Luna was also extremely intelligent, and a natural at weaving Saidar. She had quickly mastered the Mirror of Mists, which was the reason Bellatrix brought her along on this dangerous scouting mission.

Their destination was the room where the wands of the Pentawizard Champions would be weighed by that old fossil Ollivander. Harry had told Bellatrix about the four other Champions, but she wanted to see them with her own eyes. There was a remote chance that one of these inexperienced children could get her husband killed. They were no threat to him directly, but Harry would try to save a fellow Champion if they were about to die. He was always getting into trouble like that during his old life, and from everything she had been able to learn things were no different now.

"Once we are in the room do not speak. If we are detected tell the others that I took you hostage, and forced you to come here to Hogwarts against your will. Don't worry about me, I can escape on my own."

Luna looked glum, but she nodded her head.

They entered the room's window just as the ceremony was starting, and quietly found a deserted spot to watch from. Harry was looking directly at them through the Mirrors of Mist, which showed how sharp his instincts were. His tremendous skill with the One Power never ceased to amaze Bellatrix. At times like this the lust she felt for her husband made her forget just how much she still hated him.

The first Champion to step forward was a dark and hairy brute. So this was Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch player. In her opinion a man who devoted his life to flying around on a broom stick while being chased by iron Bludgers was too stupid to be a threat to anyone but himself.

"Ten and one-quarter inch hornbeam wood, with a dragon heartstring core," Ollivander remarked. "I believe this wand was crafted by my competitor Gregorovitch?"

Krum grunted in response, which only reinforced Bellatrix's belief that he was an idiot. It was surprising that an intellectual like Granger would be so attracted to him. She and Cissy had a bet about when the obnoxious bookworm would lose her virginity. Neither of them thought she would last until the New Year, not with the Yule Ball coming up.

"Miss Delacour, nine and a half inch rosewood, with a Veela hair core. Your wand may be the only one of its kind in the entire world. Do try to take care of it."

"One of a kind"... that was a phase that would never apply to Fleur Delacour herself. She was just another pretty guttersnipe who expected the world to fall at her feet. Women like that were always shocked when the world finally told them to piss-off, an event which usually occurred soon after their thirtieth birthday. Harry was right, Delacour would definitely come in last place. That's if the Veela survived until the end of the Tournament, a prospect which seemed unlikely.

"Mr Diggory, twelve and one quarter inch ash wood, with a unicorn hair core. The hair was donated by a particularly fine stallion, if I remember correctly."

"You always do," Cedric joked.

Bellatrix was forced to admit that the Hufflepuff had all the raw talent you could ask for, but fortunately he lacked a certain killer instinct. The sad truth was that at thirteen her apprentice Luna was already a stronger person than the Hogwarts Champion would ever be.

"Mr Voss, eleven inch oak, with a Sasquatch brainstem core. An extremely temperamental combination, and one prone to violent explosions," Ollivander noted with a rare look of disapproval on his face. "It is also quite illegal to use here in Britain."

"It's only temperamental in the wrong hands," the tall but slim wizard replied. "And I have a special dispensation from the British Ministry of Magic which allows me to use this wand during the Tournament."

Leaf Voss, named not for the proto-imperialist Viking, but rather for the green bit of a tree. Just thinking about the Americans and their Salem Institute brought out the Death Eater in Bellatrix. Up until the nineteen-sixties the American colonies had been much like Britain, only with less social cachet. However during that dark decade a host of foul muggle ideas started to poison their culture. Thousands of years of tradition were tossed aside in favor of nonsense like the worship of Gaia, and the need to accept all magical beings as equals regardless of their origin.

After years of unrest the muggleborn beatniks and hippies had joined forces with Native American shamans and the magical descendents of the African slaves to overthrow the local pureblood élite. The only good thing to emerge from this disastrous civil war was the policy of strict isolationism that the new government adopted. During the forties the United States had sent Aurors to fight against the Dark Lord Grindelwald, but during the seventies they refuse to help during a similar war against Britain's latest Dark Lord.

Even though their new political leaders were naïve fools, the Salem Institute itself was still an excellent school. According to Harry, this Leaf Voss was a very powerful and crafty wizard. In public he paid lip service to Salem's progressive ideals, but beneath the surface he wanted to win the Tournament at any cost.

"So the rumors are true Mr Potter," Ollivander said as he studied the last Champion. "You no longer use a wand."

"I'm afraid your noble profession has been rendered obsolete. In the future no one will need a wand to perform what you refer to as magic."

The old wizard gave Harry a patronizing smile. "During our long history the Ollivanders have heard this type of talk many times before. Those would-be revolutionaries were quickly forgotten, while we have retained our prominent place here in the Britain for over 2,000 years. You and your new allies would be wise to remember that."

After that exchange the two invisible observers climbed out the window, and began making their way down the stone wall. "Tell me, what did you see?" Bellatrix asked softly.

Luna thought about the question before answering, which was always a good sign. "That skinny wizard from the Salem Institute is scary. He is hiding something important, but I'm not sure what it is."

"And the others?"

"Ollivander hates Harry. You can see it in his eyes," Luna observed. "It's the same way Minister Scrimgeour and Headmistress McGonagall look at him. Do you think they will try to hurt Harry?"

"Yes, I do," Bellatrix replied. "Which is precisely why I going to hurt them first. Would you like to help me?"


	15. Chapter 15

Harry looked down at the miniature dragon in his hand, and all he could think about were cooking pots. Not the small ones used today, but instead the huge two-meter versions made of cast iron. During the War of Power the Trollocs had used cooking pots like that to kill prisoners by boiling them alive. After a few minutes they ripped the semi-cooked bodies apart and ate them, clothes and all. Human brains in particular were considered a prized delicacy, and the monsters often fought to the death over freshly cracked skulls.

"That's a Hungarian Horntail, one of the most vicious dragons in the world," Minister Scrimgeour pointed out with unseemly relish. "Do you have a problem with that Mr Potter?"

Harry looked up from the miniature creäture in his hand, and briefly studied the faces of his fellow Pentawizard Champions. "I'm going first, if you all don't mind."

"Isn't that against the rules Bagman?" Scrimgeour asked the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"I've read the Tournament rulebook several times, and there are no rules stating which Champion goes first," Narcissa replied, cutting-off Bagman. She had good reason to, since the wizard was a useless blowhard.

"I fail to see why we should accommodate Mr Potter's wishes," Headmistress McGonagall sniffed. "The Champions should follow the schedule the dragon-keepers have already established."

Rather than argue with the others, Harry just walked out of the tent and headed towards the cages where the dragons were being kept. They were hidden in the Forbidden Forest, but Argus had discovered the secret location several weeks ago. As he walked all Harry could think about were those huge cooking pots, and he wasn't sure why. Then he saw the five dragons being kept in a neat line, and it all fell into place.

During the War of Power many leading Aes Sedai had defected to the Shadow, lured by the promise of power and immortality. However finding thousands of foot soldiers hadn't been so easy. Pledging yourself to the embodiment of pure evil wasn't something the average person was keen on doing during the Age of Legends. To solve this pressing problem the Forsaken Aginor had used his knowledge of advanced genetics to create the Shadowspawn. These creatures were biological constructs made with the One Power, and they combined genetic material from both humans and animals.

Trollocs had been the most numerous of the Shadowspawn, but some of Aginor's other creations were even worse. Since they had no bones the Gholam could squeeze through the smallest cracks, and they were also immune to the effects of the One Power. Just six of them were created during the War, yet they were responsible for the deaths of over a thousand Aes Sedai. The Draghkar caused permanent brain death with a single kiss, while the Darkhounds could spend days on end running down their exhausted victims. Then there were the true nightmares, like the Worms. The Worms were so deadly that even the Myrddraals fled from them in terror.

Looking at these dragons Harry was convinced they were also biological constructs. Even the largest pterodactyls had wingspans of no more than ten meters and weighted less than 300 kilograms. And they had been extinct for over 65 million years. Nor could the pterodactyls breathe fire—a bizarre ability which no naturally occurring animal had ever possessed.

It was obvious that the only reason dragons existed was because some insane wizard in the distant past had used magic to create them. The same was true of basilisks and nundu: someone had taken snakes and leopards, greatly increased their size, and then gave them magical defenses. The centaurs, manticores, and sphinxes were all cross-breeds that never could have survived in nature without the assistance of magic.

By now the dragon-keepers had seen him approaching, but they weren't going to stop him from ridding the world of these monsters once and all. Harry reached out and seized Saidar. He then wove five massive blades of Fire, and sent them flying through the air in five beautiful arcs. The blades cut right through the heavy steel cages, and then decapitated all the dragons at once. Despite his use of Fire a great deal of blood still flowed from the cauterized wounds, over a thousand liters of it. After the five bodies finally drained-out Harry found that the thick liquid reached up to ankles.

"What in the name of Merlin have you done?" a furious Scrimgeour asked as he surveyed the carnage.

Harry thought that was an excellent question. Like his decision to severe Bellatrix from the One Power, killing these dragons had been rash. Perhaps even stupid. He could no longer deny that there was something deeply wrong with him. Despite his memories of Lews Therin and Rand al'Thor, in times of great stress he continued to act like a fourteen year-old teenager. He needed to control these conflicting impulses, but how?

"Don't say a word," Narcissa hissed as they dragged him back to the large tent where the other four Champions were waiting. "I will do all the talking."

Two opposing sides quickly formed up. Surprisingly Headmaster Karkaroff of Durmstrang came to Harry's defense. He seemed relieved that his star pupil Viktor Krum would no longer have to face a live dragon. He was also impressed that a single wizard could kill five dragons without assistance. Not surprisingly Headmistress McGonagall was his most vocal critic. The old battleaxe declared that a long stay in Azkaban was the only appropriate punishment for a crime of this magnitude.

"Minerva, could you please tell me what crime Mr Potter has committed?" Narcissa asked.

"He has committed an act of genocide against Draconic-Kind!" Headmaster Longfellow bellowed.

Everyone in the tent groaned, even the Salem Champion Leaf Voss. The Americans were notorious in the magical world for their belief that all magical beings should be treated equally. But even the most progressive members of their government considered Headmaster Longfellow to be a fanatic on the subject. The Salem Institute was willing to accept _**anyone**_ as student. That included vampires, werewolves, centaurs, house-elves, and in one particularly notorious case a giant. Not a half-giant like Hagrid either, but an actual five-meter tall brute that had an IQ of around fifty. Needless to say, Longfellow wasn't happy with the Farshaw Champion at the moment.

"We need to convene a meeting of the ICW at once. This barbaric treatment of dragons must end, and it must end now."

Headmistress Maxine of Beauxbatons rolled her large eyes. "Longfellow, you hypocrite. We all agreed six months ago to use dragons in the Tournament. You have no grounds to complain about their treatment, since the threat of severe injury or even death was always a possibility during the First Task."

"Viktor was planning on maiming his dragon," Karkaroff added. "It would have done wonders for his reputation back home."

"This whole conversation is irrelevant," Narcissa declared. "There is no law here in Britain—or anywhere else for that matter—against killing a dragon. For Merlin's sake, dragon slayers have always been considered among our greatest heroes."

"This was your game all along, wasn't it Longfellow?" Minister Scrimgeour raged. "You wanted to use the First Task to embarrass my country in front of the international press."

"I thought it might be instructive for the voters back home to see that magical Europe remains a primitive cesspool," the Salem Headmaster admitted. "Once they see the truth they will demand radical changes at the ICW."

At this point the argument got ugly, but there was nothing they could really do. As Narcissa had pointed out dragons have no legal rights, so Harry couldn't be charged with a crime. Rescheduling the First Task wasn't a realistic option either. The Tournament was already over-budget, and acquiring another five magical creatures on such short notice was out of the question.

In the end it was decided that only the four innocent Champions would be given their golden eggs. By denying Harry the clue hidden inside of his egg, it was believed he would be unable to complete the Second Task. Minister Scrimgeour considered this to be an adequate punishment, and Headmaster Longfellow reluctantly agreed. Harry thought they were all being fools. The only thing that could stop him from winning the Tournament was a complete mental breakdown, which unfortunately was a very real possibility at this point.

* * *

Amelia Bones had a long and decorated career as an Auror before accepting the post as Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Despite that field experience she and Chief Auror Shacklebolt felt the need for another opinion on this case. It wasn't every day that the Minister of Magic was found dead, sitting on the loo with a muggle arrow sticking out of his left eye.

"Alastor, please tell me you have something for us."

"It was a damn good shot. This crack is only five centimeters wide," Mad-Eye muttered as he studied the open window the arrow had passed through. "Did you find the spot were the assassin was standing?"

"He was up in a tree... a hundred meters away from the house," Shacklebolt answered. "It took me an hour to find any physical evidence, and the other Aurors still don't believe what I found is genuine. Most of them think Scrimgeour was killed using magic."

"Why would a wizard stage a fake crime scene like this?" Amelia asked. "What would be the point?"

"To humiliate Scrimgeour one last time. A lot of people hated the bastard, and his whole mess is going to make him look pathetic. Especially then it gets splashed all over the front page of the _Daily Prophet_," Mad-Eye offered. "The remaining Death Eaters would also be happy to see that picture, because then everyone would blame the muggles for the Minister's death."

"The muggles haven't used bows and arrows for centuries. These days they prefer guns and bombs," Shacklebolt pointed out. "If this was really an attempt to frame the muggles than a bullet wound in the head or chest would have been more convincing."

"I know you don't want to hear it Amelia, but I think Potter and that new cult of his are responsible. The way I see it they are making a push for power here in Britain, and getting rid of anyone who opposes their ideas," Mad-Eye reasoned. "First they killed Ollivander right in the middle of Diagon Alley, and now Scrimgeour is dead. Both men made no secret of their dislike for Potter."

"I'm sorry Amelia, but that is my conclusion as well," Shacklebolt added. "Ollivander was older than dirt, but he was still impossible to catch off-guard. Potter is throwing around all kinds of strange new spells, and that allowed his people to get close enough to snap the old man's neck. Plus we know that he has recruited squibs, and most of them are employed as laborers. I've met several that have the physical strength needed to break a man's neck."

"Do you want me go up to Hogwarts and have one of my "special chats" with Potter?" Mad-Eye asked.

Amelia shook her head. "Alastor, we can't treat him like a Dark Wizard we caught shoplifting in Knockturn Alley. You saw pensieve memories supplied by Emmeline Vance and Nymphadora Tonks. Potter killed Tom Riddle in a matter of seconds. And let's not forget that he just slaughtered five adult dragons for no reason at all."

"The Minister of Magic is dead, and you want us to ignore the prime suspect?" an incredulous Shacklebolt asked. "We have to do something about this situation, or we will end up looking like fools."

"The Yule Ball takes place this weekend, and we know that Potter is being forced to attend. As the Acting Minister of Magic I will have to make an appearance as well. That will give me a chance to approach the boy in a social setting. Hopefully he will be in the mood to answer my questions."

"And what if Potter decides to attack you instead?" a concerned Mad-Eye asked. He was a gruff old bastard, but he did care about his former trainees, no matter how old they were.

"If Potter kills me then the rest of you will know for sure that he is guilty," Amelia replied. "Besides, if we tried a hostile approach we could end up with a dozen or more dead Aurors. I would rather sacrifice my own life than see that happen to our people."

* * *

Despite her earlier bravado, Amelia found her that her hands were shaking as she entered the Great Hall. She must have watched those pensieve memories a hundred times, but they never ceased to both amaze and terrify her. No one had any idea that type of spell Potter used to kill Tom Riddle, or how he had done it without a wand. If an Auror couldn't disarm a suspect during an arrest then they would have no choice but stun or even kill. This lack of options would make hunting down Dark Wizards much more difficult in the future if Potter's new methods spread to the general population.

"Minister Bones, please allow me to welcome to the Yule Ball," Headmistress McGonagall said. "I believe your niece Susan will be delighted to see you here tonight."

"I'm the Acting Minister of Magic, nothing more," a distracted Amelia said as she scanned the large room. "The Wizengamot will be holding another election after the New Year."

"You are looking for _**him**_, aren't you?"

Amelia had heard rumors about the antagonism between the Headmistress and her former student, but the hatred in the witch's voice was still a shock. Minerva had an excellent reputation, yet she seemed to be throwing it all away thanks to this silly feud with Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived was already the most popular wizard in Britain, and most people still didn't know he was responsible for Tom Riddle's death. Once they did it was almost certain that the Headmistress would be sacked for driving the young hero out of Hogwarts.

"Where is he?"

"He is standing next to the tallest Yule tree at the other end of the Great Hall."

Now that Amelia knew where to look it was easy to spot Potter and his friends. They stood out thanks to their odd white jackets. The boy was talking to a young blonde girl who looked upset for some reason. If she wasn't mistaken that was Luna Lovegood, the student who had disappeared last Christmas with her father Xenophilius. Potter's best friend Hermione Granger was watching the pair, while holding hands with the Durmstrang Champion. The girl had also disappeared last year, along with several of the more talented muggleborn witches.

Scattered around them were a dozen older men and women. They were probably squibs, but they weren't acting like any squibs Amelia ever met. To her experienced eye they seemed as proud and arrogant as the old Death Eaters. Reports from around the world told of dozens, perhaps hundreds of squibs disappearing without a trace. Everyone knew that the Farshaw Academy was the reason behind this mass exodus, and that fact was making many magical governments very nervous.

"Mr Potter, may I have a word with you in private?"

The boy studied her for a moment before turning to one of the older squibs. To Amelia's surprise she saw that the man was Argus Filch, the old Hogwarts Caretaker.

"Take Miss Lovegood and Miss Granger home immediately. And tell Headmistress Black they are not to leave the Academy again without my express permission. Especially Miss Lovegood."

"But Harry I don't want to leave yet," Hermione moaned as she glanced over at her date.

"Mr Krum can escort you to the Shrieking Shack if he so desires," Potter told her. "Now go."

Amelia watched as the large group quickly left the Great Hall. It was clear how much fear they inspired in the other students, but a few of the Slytherins were brave enough to point at Granger and snicker behind their hands. The girl never let go of the Viktor Krum's hand, not that the famous Quidditch star was complaining.

"I must say you keep your people on a short leash."

The boy deflected her insult with an embarrassing offer: "Would you care for a dance Minister Bones?"

Harry Potter could dance, there was no denying it. He had also grown since their last meeting, and was almost tall enough to look her straight in the eyes. It was easy, almost too easy, to forget that he was only fourteen years-old.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

"I did not kill Minister Scrimgeour or Mr Ollivander, but I know who did," he replied at once. "And before you ask, I am not giving you the individual's name or their current location."

It took all of Amelia's training not to flinch. Potter had just admitted to the acting Minister of Magic that he was harboring a killer, yet he didn't seem to care about her possible reaction. Was he really powerful enough to openly defy her like this?

"You will give that bastard's name and location now, or I will have you arrested."

Potter slowly lowered his hand until it was resting on her shapely bottom. "I simply adore forceful and intelligent women."

"Let's take this outside," Amelia hissed. "I don't want any innocent schoolchildren to be caught in the crossfire, least of all Susan and her friends."

It was a typical winter night in the Scottish Highlands, which meant it was both cold and damp. Potter strolled out of the castle and didn't stop until they reached the small stone hut here the Gamekeeper lived. The interior had an offensive odor, but drawing her wand for something as trivial as a Cleaning Charm was out of the question. Only after they both sat down did Potter speak.

"Normally I would hand the guilty party over to the proper authorities without delay, but this is an unusual case," Potter explained. "The person in question has a great deal of valuable information that I... that the world can not afford to lose."

"Boy, you don't have the legal or moral authority to make a decision of that importance," Amelia snapped.

"Please, we both know that I am not a boy. My abilities far surpass those of any wizard or witch on Earth, and there is no way I could have acquired those abilities at such a young age."

Was Potter possessed by the ghost of some ancient wizard? Perhaps even by the great Merlin himself? That was Nymphadora Tonks' pet theory, and the reason she was so infatuated with the boy. Given the circumstantial evidence the Aurors had collected over the past two years, the idea had many other supporters in the Ministry of Magic.

"Well, if you are no longer the son of James and Lily Potter then who exactly are you?"

"Without the proper context, that specific piece of information would mean nothing to you," Potter replied. "I will tell you that my moral authority, as you so crudely put it, far exceeds your own. Headmaster Longfellow may be an obnoxious twit, but he was right about one thing: magical Europe is a primitive cesspool."

"And you think you can do better?" Amelia asked.

"I know that I can."

That last statement was more than she could stand. Not only was Potter harboring a fugitive from justice, but now he was promising to overthrow the government. She had dedicated her entire life to the Ministry of Magic. It was far from perfect, but it was all they had to hold back the threat posed by the Dark Arts. At that moment Amelia decided she was going to arrest Harry Potter or die in the attempt. In a flash she drew her wand and cast a powerful nonverbal Stunning Spell. But nothing happened.

"Try any curse or hex you like. None of them will work," Potter said. "You no longer have access to any magic."

"That's impossible," Amelia whispered as she fought against a rising tide of panic. She tried a dozen different spells, but none of them worked either. "No wizard can steal another wizard's magic."

Potter's cool demeanor finally cracked a bit. "Magic doesn't belong to you or to anyone else for that matter. It is an endless source of pure energy—energy which created and maintains the entire universe. As a witch you can access a microscopic portion of that energy, and use it to create your spells. Fortunately, I can temporarily block your access whenever I want to. I can even permanently sever the connection."

"You can turn me into a muggle?"

"Yes, I can," Harry replied. "In the coming years a great many wizards and witches will be stripped of their so-called magic. It's long past time someone brought justice to this corrupt world of yours."

Amelia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You are going to destroy us."

"One must clear away the rubble before attempting to build anew. Of course I will try to make the transition as painless as possible. Those who coöperate will reap great rewards."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I want your help. And because there is nothing you or anyone else at the Ministry of Magic can do to stop me."

"That is a wild boast."

"It's not a boast, it's the truth," Harry replied. "Tom Riddle, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Ollivander were three of the most powerful wizards in Britain. And now they are dead. Do you honestly think you could do any better?"

"Do you expect the Ministry of Magic to simply surrender?" Amelia asked. "That will never happen as long as I'm still alive. I will never accept the leadership of a murderer like you."

"I told you before my people were freelancing without my permission. It will not happen again," Potter promised, and he sounded sincere. "That being said, at some point you or one of your foreign colleagues will try to attack the Farshaw Academy. If that happens we will defend ourselves. The war will end up being a bloodbath for your side, and that's something I want to avoid if possible."

"If you don't want a war, then what do you want?"

"Time. Scrimgeour and Ollivander thought they could preserve the status quo infinitely, but they were wrong. Change is coming to the magical world Minister Bones. It is a historical inevitability."

"And if I don't accept these inevitable changes you will just kill me?" Amelia asked. "You are no better than Tom Riddle, and I will fight you.'

"Argus!" Potter shouted, and the squib immediately appeared out of thin air. As a former Auror she had to admit the squib's Disillusionment Charm was perfect. "You are under the mistaken impression that you will be fighting me personally, but nothing could be further from the truth. I'm not the one shielding you, Argus is."

"You're lying."

"No, I am not. In less time than it takes the Ministry of Magic to produce an Auror, I have taught a squib how to defeat a witch of your power and experience. Dozens of squibs have completed their basic training, and each one of them is more than a match for your finest Aurors. Think about that before you accidentally start a war you have no chance of winning."

Potter finally stood, and walked over to the door. "I will be participating in the Second Task. If you are planning on arresting me, you can try to do it there."


	16. Chapter 16

The second Harry passed through the Gateway to the Academy he channeled a weave of Air and Water in front of his mouth. "ARGUS, NARCISSA, REMUS, AND STUBBY: REPORT TO THE POTTER RESIDENCE."

His amplified voice was so loud that it shattered several nearby windows, but Harry didn't care. It had only been a few minutes since his disastrous meeting with Amelia Bones, and he was still furious. A year's worth of effort had just been destroyed in less than ten minutes thanks to Bellatrix's misguided campaign of terror.

Sirius was the first to arrive at Harry's house. "First of all, you have to teach me how to do that trick. It would be brilliant for pranks. Second of all, what's so important that you had to shake the entire island? It felt like a bloody earthquake."

"I will explain everything when Narcissa and Remus get here." Harry said as Argus walked through the door.

The two lovebirds finally arrived ten minutes later. Given the salty smell of their wet hair and their disheveled clothes, his public summons must have caught them during a bit of skinny dipping. Remus looked embarrassed, while Narcissa looked angry. Harry didn't blame her, since swimming in the warm Caribbean Sea with a naked Bellatrix was one of his favorite pastimes as well.

"Thank you all for coming," Harry said, as if they had any choice in the matter. Their blind obedience was a problem, and something that had to change.

"Since the beginning of this crusade I've been acting like an autocrat, but that's no longer acceptable. I can't ignore the fact that my judgment has become... erratic. So from now on all major decisions concerning the Academy will be debated by the five of us. I will still be in charge, but I will consider your arguments carefully before acting."

"My Lord, I think that's a terrible idea," Argus said. "We need a strong leader to run things, not some bloody committee."

Remus looked over at Narcissa and then over at best friend. They seemed to be having a silent but meaningful conversation.

Finally Sirius spoke. "What exactly happened at the Yule Ball?"

"Argus, please find Bellatrix and bring her here while I tell these three what an exciting evening I had at Hogwarts."

"What if she doesn't want to come, my Lord? The Lady Potter can be headstrong at times."

"If she gives you any trouble, break her legs. Healer Starkey can always use the extra practice."

Once Argus left Harry launched into a detailed explanation of his conversation with Luna at the Yule Ball. The girl had confessed to helping Bellatrix assassinate Scrimgeour and Ollivander. None of the others seemed surprised by this news.

"Just because Trixie is your wife doesn't change the face that she is also a psychotic killer," Sirius explained. "And we all know that Luna Lovegood isn't right in the head."

The news about Harry's disastrous confrontation with Amelia Bones down at Hagrid's hut came as more of a shock. Remus was worried that they weren't ready yet for such a large-scale conflict. Narcissa had a more personal reaction: she was terrified that her son Draco might be arrested and used as a hostage.

"You have my word that if he is arrested I will break the little snake out of Azkaban himself," Harry told her. "I should probably destroy the Dementors and the entire prison while I'm at it."

"Can I help you with that?" Sirius asked. He was just a overgrown boy in so many ways.

Argus soon returned with a grimacing Bellatrix, whose left leg was indeed broken. Harry was surprised to see that her right leg was untouched. The old squib was starting to go soft. Or perhaps he realized just how important this "psychotic killer" was to the well-being of his young Lord.

"So Trixie, Scrimgeour was actually sitting on the loo when you shot him in the eye with an arrow? Where in the Seven Hells did you learn to pull off a trick like that?" Sirius asked his cousin.

"Given the light wind any Maiden of the Spear could have hit a human eye from that distance," Bellatrix replied. "Birgitte Silverbow could have done it blindfolded."

"Sit down," Harry snapped. "We are here to decide whether to hand you over to the British Ministry of Magic. Narcissa, how far along is the _Guide_?"

The _Hitchhiker's Guide to the One Power_ was the nickname Penelope Clearwater and several of the other muggleborns had given to their ongoing research project. Everything Harry and Bellatrix remembered about the One Power was being copied down, indexed, and cross-referenced for future generations. The Guide was already over a thousand pages long, and they had only started working on it six months ago.

"You should ask Miss Clearwater or Miss Granger that question," Narcissa replied. "They oversee the _Guide_, while I spend all of my time running your Academy."

"Harry, you're not being fair," Remus said. "You can't ask Cissy to condemn her own sister to death, which is what will happen if we had her over to the Ministry. Only Bellatrix knows if she has more to share with us about her former training with the One Power."

"That's a valid point," Harry said as he turned to his wife.

"I can't believe you would even consider handing me over to the Ministry!" Bellatrix raged, ignoring the question. "Scrimgeour and Ollivander were threats that had to be eliminated. So that's what I did. You are making the same mistakes now that you made in the future with the Seanchan Empire. We must kill them all. It is the only way to ensure our survival."

"Why did you involve Luna in all this?" Harry asked. "She is just an innocent child."

"I needed Luna's help because you severed me, our strongest and most experienced female channeler, from the One Power. She created the Gateways to Britain, and I did everything else. I don't see why you are so upset about her involvement. Luna thought the experience was a great adventure."

"I'm upset exactly because a thirteen year-old saw the assassination of two of her fellow human beings as a great adventure. Given your complete lack of maternal instincts it's no wonder that our children turned out as badly as they did!" Harry shouted. "Argus, I thought my wife was to be kept under guard?"

The squib looked down at his boots in shame. "My Lord, she is impossible to control without the use of extreme violence."

"You had no problem breaking her leg a few minutes ago."

"That's because I had your permission to do so," Argus replied.

"Harry, you haven't kept your relationship with Trixie a secret. Everyone on the island knows about it. As a result the Argonauts are afraid to touch her, and she exploits that fear every chance she gets," Sirius explained.

"And you can not underestimate how clever Miss Lovegood is," Narcissa added. "She has learned more weaves than anyone else here at the Academy, and her strength with Saidar is only surpassed by Miss Granger. It's a simple matter for her to move around the island undetected by the rest of us."

"She would have made an excellent Maiden of the Spear," Bellatrix said spitefully.

Harry closed his eyes, and tried to rein in his temper. Another argument about the philosophical shortcomings of the Aiel would solve nothing. It was also time to admit that he wasn't going to turn his wife over to those barbarians in Britain. On the other hand something had to be done about her.

"I think we can all agree that Bellatrix should be kept away from Luna? And that her guards should have authorization to use the One Power to restrain her if necessary? And that she should be stripped of the right to assign punishments to her students?"

"That sounds reasonable to me," Narcissa said as she quickly glared her sister, hoping to suppress any violent outbursts. "Bellatrix will be happy to agree to all of your conditions."

"I think you're being fair," Sirius added. "Trixie can't be trusted, and keeping her under guard all the time is our best option."

"Argus?"

"My Lord, many of the Argonauts will have trouble accepting those orders. They love and respect the Lady Potter. Maybe you could address the subject in public, and let them know that you approve of these changes?"

"That won't be a problem," Harry replied. "Please call for some men, and have them take my wife to the infirmary."

"What about Amelia Bones?" Remus asked after Bellatrix was carried away. "You directly challenged her authority, and the authority of the Ministry of Magic. She will respond—she has to."

"Don't underestimate the witch. Back when she was an Auror even the strongest of the Death Eaters were reluctant to face her in a fight without the Dark Lord's personal support," Narcissa added.

"Minister Bones will act, but not until the Second Task. She will want to face me on her home turf," Harry explained. "Don't worry about that now. Instead I would like to talk about the island's security protocols. I want them locked-down before the political situation deteriorates any further. Do you four have any suggestions?"

* * *

It was a dreary February morning when Harry walked up to the edge of the Black Lake. "My guess is the Champions will have to recover something from down there."

"Given the fact that the other four Champions are wearing swimwear makes that a safe assumption," Narcissa said as she searched the crowd for Draco. Strangely enough neither he nor any of the other Hogwarts students Harry knew personally were present.

"Hermione, what do you think? Hermione!"

The girl finally tore her eyes away from Viktor Krum, who was wearing a very tight pair of trunks. "I agree with Headmistress Black. You will have to search the lake for some hidden treasure and then bring it back to the surface."

A few minutes later the Salem Champion Leaf Voss slowly approached their group. "Potter, I would like to have a word with you alone. It's about a confidential matter, so I will cast a privacy ward if you don't mind."

Since their first meeting Harry found himself disliking the American wizard for the most trivial of reasons: Voss was tall. Lews Therin and Rand al'Thor had been veritable giants, but the Boy-Who-Lived was nothing more than a skinny little runt. Harry was trying to be more rational these days, so he set aside that dislike and smiled like the innocent teenager that he was suppose to be.

"What can I do for you today?"

"There are over fifty Aurors and Hit Wizards within a hundred yards of this spot. Don't bother looking for them, they impersonating Hogwarts students using Polyjuice Potion. The British Ministry of Magic had to buy up half the world's current supply of Bicorn horns to brew that much of the stuff."

"How could you possible know that?" Harry asked.

"My mother is the head of the PIA."

"The PIA?"

"The Paranormal Intelligence Agency," Voss explained. "We Americans may be isolationists, but still believe in keeping a close eye on our enemies. And that certainly includes you Europeans. According to the message I received last night from my mother, your Ministry of Magic has been planning this operation for over a month. They want to take you down Potter, no matter how bad it makes them look to the rest of the world."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"My government is prepared to offer you political asylum. One of our élite field units is hiding on the far side of the lake. We want you and your friends to use the confusion of the Second Task to escape. Our people have been instructed to provide covering fire if necessary. You will be given specially designed portkeys that can punch through the heavy wards that were cast around Hogwarts last night. After a short trip to Ireland, you and your friend will be escorted to the United States."

"And what is the price for this timely assistance?"

"Don't be so crass Potter," Voss said with a smile. "We are simply helping out a friend in a time of need. However if you like to teach us this new form of wandless magic you developed… let's just say we would be happy to accept your offer."

"Your mother should be proud, you have a real talent for this sort of thing," Harry observed. "I can see now why it was so easy for you to bag the French Pop Tart."

"On the subject of girlfriends: I've heard some very interesting rumors about your date to the Yule Ball. According to most of the students here at Hogwarts, Luna Lovegood is insane."

"True, but that's what makes her so interesting," Harry replied. "So this is why the Salem Institute agreed to participate in the Tournament. Your PIA knew one of the European governments was going to try and capture me for study, and you wanted to be here at Hogwarts to "rescue" me if necessary."

"You are much too cynical for someone your age," Voss joked. "As much as I would like to continue this conversation, time is of the essence. Should I give the signal or not?"

"Thank you for your generous offer, but on behalf of the Farshaw Academy I must decline."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'm positive."

"Fine, it's your funeral," Voss said as he turned to leave. "I'll give you one last piece of intelligence for free: your Ministry intends to wait until the Second Task is over before they make their move."

"They want me exhausted so I will be easier to capture alive," Harry reasoned. "Excellent strategy on their part."

Voss headed over to the Beauxbatons Champion for a bit of pre-Task snogging. Harry didn't care for the conceited Miss Delacour, but he had to admit she looked stunning in that one-piece swimsuit. After a moment of ogling, he returned to his friends.

"Minister Bones has fifty Aurors and Hit Wizards waiting to capture us once the show is over. They are posing as Hogwarts students, which is why none of our acquaintances are here. The Ministry was probably afraid that they would act out of character, and give themselves away too early."

"So what is your plan?" Remus asked.

"The four of us are going to form a Circle. Then I'm going to win the Second Task."

"What about the fifty Aurors and Hit Wizards?" Narcissa asked. "Does your brilliant plan involve dealing with them?"

"Just link with me. That will answer your question."

Technically Narcissa, Hermione, and Remus added very little to his astonishing level of power. However a Circle would give him access to Saidar, and using both halves of the One Power always increased the strength of your weaves. Always.

Once the Circle was formed Narcissa and Hermione stared at him in awe. Remus has a good idea of how strong Harry was, but the two women had never experienced anything like this before. He could feel their emotions as well. Hermione was concerned about Viktor, and upset that she about to break the Tournament rules. Narcissa was scared, probably for the safety of her son. Despite her pureblood upbringing, she was fundamentally a good person. It was too bad that she had turned Draco into such a spoiled brat.

"I am going to perform a Delving. Tell me what you sense."

Harry channeled a vast weave of Earth, and a topographical map of the entire Black Lake soon formed in his mind. He could see everything, including the colony were the Merpeople lived. Their stone buildings stood out in sharp contrast to the organic silt which lined the rest of the lake bottom.

"This is incredible! I can actually see the houses down there," Hermione squealed. "Whatever you have to retrieve for the Second Task will most likely be found there."

"Stay here on shore," Harry told them. "The Circle won't be affected if we are separated by such a short distance."

A few minutes later the Champions gathered at the wooden pavilion which had been set-up temporarily at the edge of the lake. Harry went to join them, and soon the crowd began to point and whisper. He did look rather out of place in his pristine white uniform.

"Mr Potter, are you going to take part in the Second Task or not?" an anxious Minister Bones asked.

"Whenever you're ready," Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Amelia looked like she wanted to order the surprise attack right then and there, but instead she began to explain what was required of the Champions. Apparently the organizers of the Tournament had taken five hostages last night, and placed them in stasis. The Champions had to swim down to the bottom of the lake, free their hostages, and return in less than an hour. He had no idea who he was suppose to rescue. Perhaps Ron?

Harry decided to let the four other Champions have a head start. Cedric and Fleur created large air bubbles around their pretty heads, while Viktor slowly transfigured the upper half of his body into a shark. Leaf Voss transformed into a bottlenose dolphin—he was so quick and graceful that it was most likely his animagus form.

Once the four Champions disappeared under the water, Harry reached out to his fellow Aes Sedai. He then gathered as much Saidin and Saidar as they could safely give him, and began to channel Water and Earth. To the utter astonishment of all present, the surface of the Black Lake began to split in half. Once a thin section of the lake bottom was exposed to the open air, a series of stone steps immediately began to form. This new staircase led straight down to the Merpeople colony, or whatever they called it in their odd language.

"I will be back in a few minutes," Harry told everyone as he began jogging down the steps at a brisk pace. There was no sense in wasting any time.

As he descended Harry saw the other Champions swimming nearby. At first they ignored him, but soon they came to the edge of the massive walls of water and stared. Luckily staring was all they could do, since his weave could not be breached by their weak magical spells. This also meant that none of them could rescue their hostages, since Harry had blocked off access to the underwater colony. The Merpeople he saw swimming about didn't seem very happy about being kicked-out of their homes.

As Harry neared his destination there was less and less light, so he created a weave of Fire which floated in the air like a tiny sun. When he finally reached the colony it was a great disappointment. There were a dozen or so stone huts which were covered with slimy green algae. If the Merpeople had any artistic talent, which he doubted, there was no trace of it in their primitive architecture.

Another disappointment was his hostage, Ginny Weasley. Rescuing the feisty redhead was becoming a bad habit for him. Since she and the other hostages were no longer submerged in water they were now wide-awake. They were all disorientated and scared, especially the little French girl. It wasn't hard to see why. It was dark this far down, and they were surrounded on all sides by translucent walls of water over a hundred meters high. All kinds of creatures were staring at them through those walls: the angry Merpeople, a pack of wild Grindylows, and even the giant squid itself.

"Harry!" Ginny cried. "What is going on?"

"I will explain later. Now I want all of you to follow me back up these stairs. This whole experience will be over soon, and you will be reunited with your loved ones once we reach the surface," he calmly told them.

Ginny and the little Frog quickly latched on to his hands, but the other three hostages weren't so trusting. "What about Cedric? Isn't he the one who is supposed to rescue me?" Cho Chang asked.

"Cedric is right over there." Harry said as he pointed to one of the walls of water. The Hogwarts Champion seemed as angry as the Merpeople, and he gave his Farshaw rival a two-finger salute. "As you can see, he can't breach the wall. Which is a good thing when you think about it, since we would all drown instantly if he did."

"How did you create this enchantment?" the Durmstrang hostage asked as he ran his hands over the wall. Despite being made of water, it was dry to the touch.

"Very carefully," Harry replied as he began to shrink the perimeter of dry lake bottom. Slowly the Merpeople colony was reclaimed by the Black Lake, and the reluctant hostages were forced to fellow him back up the stairs.

As they made the long climb, Harry began to disassemble the stone staircase. The walls of water also followed close behind them. Even with a Circle channeling this much of the One Power was a great strain, so reducing the size of his weave was a relief. Once they finally set foot on shore, he returned the Black Lake to its former pristine state.

The crowd that had been waiting for them was silent, as were the other Champions who had returned to the surface. The hostages all ran to their respective Champions, and were greeted with hugs. Still no one said a single word.

It wasn't everyday that you saw a live reenactment of the _Book of Exodus_.

An exhausted Narcissa finally stepped forward. "My Champion rescued the five hostages, and he did so without getting his school uniform wet. I think it's safe to assume that he is the winner of the Second Task. Don't you all agree?"

Harry walked over to Ministry Bones, who was still staring slack-jawed at the Black Lake. "So Amelia, would you care for another dance?"

"You could have killed us," she whispered. "With that kind of raw power you could have killed us all."

"That's true," Harry admitted. "And the next time you try to ambush me there will be blood. Quite a bit of it. Is that what you want to see happen?"

"No," Amelia replied.

"Then order your people to pull back."

The Minister of Magic scurried away like a chasten schoolgirl, and started an angry discussion with Kingsley Shacklebolt. She kept gesturing towards the lake, which was an elegant way of making her point. After a few minutes the Chief Auror reluctantly nodded his head. Soon the large crowd of impersonators began to drift away. When Amelia came back to talk, Harry channeled a weave of Air so they could have some privacy.

"You might have won today, but if you expect me to control the Wizengamot for any length of time we will have to come to some sort of understanding," the Minister of Magic explained. "After this latest display they will be even more frightened of you and your strange abilities. Perhaps a formal treaty would help me convince them that you are not a threat."

"But I am a threat."

"You have a long-term plan to reform the magical world. The Wizengamot is more concerned that you may show up at the Ministry tomorrow and go on a bloody rampage. That's not something you want to do, is it?" Amelia asked.

"No, of course not," Harry replied. "And a treaty does sounds like a sensible idea. Perhaps we should discuss this further over a nice lunch? I happen to know of a delightful little restaurant right on the beach."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Final chapter. Thanks for reading.

* * *

On the morning of the Third Task Bellatrix found herself lying in bed naked as Harry slowly got dressed. She was playing with her hunting knife while waving her two feet in the air. The position was a flattering showcase for her firm bottom, which was without a doubt her best feature.

"You seemed to get along very well the American delegation yesterday—especially that Voss woman."

Rachel Voss was the head of the United States' Paranormal Intelligence Agency and the mother of Leaf Voss, the Salem Champion. She and several other important officials from the American government had paid a short visit to the Shrieking Shack. Much like Minister Bones, the Americans were eager to form an alliance of some sort with Harry Potter and his new Farshaw Academy. They hadn't signed any formal agreements yet, but the preliminary talks had gone well. A bit too well.

"I don't trust her."

"Trixie, you don't trust anyone."

"Don't you dare start calling me Trixie. Sirius is technical the head of the Black family, so he gets a free pass when it comes to that ridiculous nickname. You have no such excuse."

Harry smiled as he tried to put on his boots on. It was difficult since he kept glancing over at her bottom, just like she wanted him to. "Director Voss is a brilliant and charming woman who was very honest about her government's ultimate goals."

"You were flirting with her." Bellatrix knew this because she had spied on the talks while hanging from one of the ceiling fixtures. Being a former Maiden of the Spear made that sort of thing easy, although her right shoulder was sore this morning.

"Director Voss is divorced and quite attractive."

"You were also flirting with Amelia yesterday. You are always flirting with Amelia. You never seem to stop flirting with Amelia"

"Minister Bones is a widow and also quite attractive."

In one fluid motion Bellatrix leapt from the bed, and brought her hunting knife within centimeters of her husband's throat. "I will not accept one sister-wife, let alone two of them. Not in this life.

"So, I see you've lost your taste for some of the Aiel's more barbaric social customs," Harry said mockingly as he moved his throat forward until it touched the blade.

"If the Pattern allows it, you will live for another thousand years. I will be lucky to last for another ten," she replied. "You can take a new wife once I'm dead, but not before. Not unless you want her to die a slow and painful death."

"What if I want Luna?"

"She is just a child."

"You have seen how she looks at me."

Bellatrix lowered her knife and looked away. "She can wait for her chance. She will wait, no matter how long it takes. We both know that to be true."

Harry suddenly kissed her. Their mutual need was so intense they didn't even make back to the bed. They just dropped to the floor. They had never spoken of the fact that his life was just beginning, while hers was almost at an end. The situation was so heartbreaking that they were desperate for anything to take away the pain. Making love on that cold hardwood floor did the trick, at least for a little while.

Afterwards Bellatrix couldn't stop running her hands through his black hair, which was now longer than hers. Rand al'Thor had been handsome in a rough sort of way, but Harry Potter was beautiful boy. Unfortunately he was well aware of that fact.

"Why do you feel the need to participate in the Tournament? Your skill as an Aes Sedai makes it a farce."

"Stop being so glum. The Third Task will be over in less than five minutes, and winning the Tournament allows me to prove my natural superiority to the magical world without the need for any more bloodshed."

"You don't need to prove anything to those fools."

"Yes, I do," Harry told her. "I intend to destroy their entire world and replace it with something new. Something better. Despite that many people are going to lash out in violence, just as you did. If I can convince the British and the Americas to support my goals it might be possible to achieve a peaceful transition."

Bellatrix abruptly stood up, and began to dress. "Once again you are being naïve. War is inevitable."

After a few minutes they were both ready. Harry silently offered her his hand, and reluctantly she took it. He had severed her from the One Power, and she would always hate him for that. But to reject him out of spite would be an act of dishonor. He was the greatest man of this Age, perhaps the greatest man of any Age, and he desperately needed her love. Bellatrix swore to herself that she would never abandon him again.

Outside they found a large entourage waiting for them. Everyone wanted to watch the Third Task, even Sirius. To that end "Stubby" had dyed his long hair and goatee a dark blonde color. He was also wearing a pair of blue contact lenses, purchased from the muggles in Mexico City. Harry had taught his godfather how to disguise his appearance using the One Power, but Sirius preferred this more permanent solution.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I look even better as a blonde," her cousin joked.

Granger looked nervous and came rushing up to them the moment they walked outside. "We are going to be late."

"Please calm down Hermione, everything will be fine," Harry told her. "Let's play "Stun or Kill" one last time."

After Argus learned about the details of the Third Task of the Pentawizard Tournament, Sirius came up with a new game. The rules were very simple. Someone would call out the name of a magical creäture Harry might face during the Task, and he would answer whether he was going to "Stun" or "Kill" the creäture in question.

"A sphinx," Luna shouted playfully.

"Stun," Harry replied dutifully. It was always "Stun", even if he was facing the poisonous breath of a giant Nundu.

Luna thought the game was hilarious and couldn't stop laughing. Narcissa and Remus were also grinning at each other like a pair of lovestruck teenagers. These reactions annoyed Bellatrix. She took the possibility of her husband's death very seriously.

"A hippogriff," Hermione offered.

Harry glared at his best friend. "Stun. I'm already on Hagrid's bad side thanks to the First Task. If I killed poor Buckbeak he would never speak to me again."

Next it was Sirius's turn. "Speaking of Hagrid: how about one of his infamous Blast-Ended Skrewts."

"Don't worry about those critters, my Lord," Argus said before Harry could answer. "We took care of them a few days ago."

"Did anyone see you?" Narcissa asked sharply.

"You must be confusing the Argonauts with those incompetent Death Eaters your jackass of a husband use to run around with. We are never seen unless Lord Potter wants us to be seen."

"Argus," Harry snapped. "I've told you before that you can't go around gratuitously insulting purebloods, no matter how much they might deserve it. A leader of your importance has to keep up a certain level of decorum in public."

"I will try to remember that in the future."

"Good. Now tell me: are the Argonauts in place around Hogwarts and the Quidditch pitch?"

"Yes my Lord, we moved into position just before dawn."

"Harry, I don't think the remaining Death Eater have the nerve to actually attack you, or the Aurors who will be on duty today," Remus argued. "During the last war they preferred hit-and-run tactics against more vulnerable targets."

"The Death Eaters have no idea where Harry lives," Bellatrix pointed out. "If they want to kill the Boy-Who-Lived this might be their one and only opportunity. I think they will take it."

"That's what I'm worried about as well Remus," Harry added. "They are desperate, and desperate people do stupid things. Like attacking a crowd full of innocent schoolchildren."

After the passed through the Gateway to the Shrieking Shack, Harry wove a Mirror of Mists and led Bellatrix away from the others. "I've prepare a spot where you can watch the Third Task. It's both comfortable and private."

Another Gateway opened and took them to the side of one of the mountains overlooking the Quidditch pitch. From this elevation the entire Hedge Maze was clearly visible. Harry had constructed and then hidden a small stone gazebo up here. It was stocked with a variety of foods, and there was even a bottle of champagne being chilled in a bucket of ice.

"It's a bit far away from the action," Bellatrix remarked as she sat on a chaise longue, picking from a bowl of fresh strawberries.

"True, but the details won't be important today. From up here you will have an excellent view of the big picture."

"And I will also be far away from any fighting if the Death Eaters make an appearance today."

Harry looked embarrassed by her accusation. "I've lost everyone I loved in two separate lifetimes. I don't want to live through that pain again, not if I don't have to. Please just do this for me."

Bellatrix couldn't ignore the anguish in his voice. "You have my word that I will stay here until the Third Task is over. But in return I expect an excellent performance today."

An hour later when a small cannon fired in the distance, an excellent performance is exactly what she got. Rather than waste any time exploring the Maze, Harry simply removed it as an obstacle. He channeled Earth to grab the hedges' long root systems, and then dragged the tall plants underground. In just a few seconds the entire Maze disappeared from sight, revealing the various magical creatures that had been hiding inside.

True to his word, Harry did not "Kill" a single one of these poor creatures. Instead he trapped them in giant bubbles of Air, and let them float harmlessly off into the sky. From her vantage point Bellatrix thought it was a lovely image. Finally her husband seized the Tournament Trophy, which then flew across the now-empty Quidditch pitch into his waiting hands.

"He completed the Third Task in under ten seconds. That must be some kind of Tournament record."

Bellatrix would never forget the sound of that voice—she heard it often in her worst nightmares. In an instant she drew her knife and sent it flying at Tom Riddle. It stopped in midair just centimeters away from his face and then instantly turned to dust. She tried moving, but her body was already locked in place.

"That's no way to greet an old friend."

The Dark Lord looked as healthy as ever, expect for his eyes. They were now completely black. "This can't be happening. No human being has ever survived being struck by Balefire."

"No one expect for me," Riddle replied. "My eyes... you heard of something like this before, haven't you? I'm so glad I came. That piece of information alone justifies the long trip."

Bellatrix had in fact heard of this strange phenomenon before. According to Harry the Dark One had granted several of the Forsaken access to a unique source of energy he alone controlled. His followers referred to it as the "True Power", and it caused small black dots to appear in their eyes of its users. Slowly more and more dots appeared until the eyes became completely black. It also drove them insane.

Somehow Riddle had reached out and formed a connection with the Dark One. But how?

"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix asked. The wizard loved to hear himself talk, and if she kept the pompous ass distracted long enough Harry was sure to return.

Riddle gestured towards the Quidditch pitch. "I came to watch the festivities. My Death Eaters are about to strike."

"How do you circumvent the wards around Hogwarts?"

"I had nothing to do with that," Riddle admitted. "They were too complex for me to breach, but luckily I had help from a certain disgruntled Headmistress. All I had to do was promise to kill Harry Potter, and Minerva McGonagall was more than happy to let the Death Eaters pass through the wards."

"I should have cut the throat of that Scottish hag when I had the chance," Bellatrix muttered.

"Don't worry, she is no longer among the living."

Several large fires suddenly appeared around Hogwarts, but they disappeared almost at once. Now that the Argonauts had clear targets they emerged from hiding, and their swift counterattack was brutally efficient. Even from this distance it was clear the battle was going to be short and one-sided.

"I can see your skill as a field general hasn't improved. So ends the glorious history of your Death Eaters. "

Riddle grimaced. "Your husband Rodolphus is down there."

"Rodolphus Lestrange never meant anything to me," Bellatrix snarled. "And my true husband will be here in a matter of minutes."

"No doubt that's true. But before I go, you will tell me everything you know about my current condition."

"Never."

Tom laughed as the bright sunshine of that June afternoon seemed to fade into darkness. It was as if his body was consuming the light. "You might be able to throw off the Imperius Curse, but my powers have grown far beyond that simple piece of magic."

Bellatrix did have a great deal of experience with Cruciatus Curse, but the True Power was something worse. Something far more insidious. Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as Riddle slowly ripped the information out of her. She told him everything she knew about the Dark One and the True Power, absolutely everything. When death finally came it was almost a relief, although she would have liked to seen her husband one last time before the end.

* * *

Harry was feeling rather good about himself when he opened a Gateway that fateful day—the day that changed his life forever. He had won the Pentawizard Tournament in a convincing fashion, and the Death Eaters had been routed. Argus had even taken a few prisoners who would be questioned extensively before being executed. Minister Bones and Chief Auror Shacklebolt had too intimidated by the sight of dozens of Argonauts surrounding Hogwarts to object to his plans.

Now he was going to have a glass of champagne, and hopefully make love to Bellatrix. That lovely image vanished when Harry looked though the Gateway and saw Tom Riddle standing over his wife's mangled corpse. For an endless moment he contemplated his next move. The use of Balefire might reverse time enough to bring Bellatrix back to life. Or it might not. And if he destroyed Riddle, he would never learn how the wizard escaped death for a second time. Then Harry noticed that Riddle's eyes were now black, and all hope of reviving his wife vanished. He had no choice but to capture the bastard alive, and learn how he had gained access into the Dark One's prison.

In the right hands the "True Power" was a supremely dangerous weapon, but Riddle lacked any real dueling experience with it. Torturing a defenseless woman… that he could do. Besting the greatest Aes Sedai in history… that was a bit outside of his current skill set. His attack was clumsy, which allowed Harry to simply sidestep it. The beam of pure energy sailed straight across the Highland valley until it destroyed a small mountain on far side of Hogwarts.

At the same moment over thirty much smaller weaves of Saidin emerged simultaneously from Harry's body. He used all five elements, even Spirit. They traveled in every possible direction and moved at varying speeds. To his credit Riddle was able to block most of them, but several made it through his defenses.

A weave of Water caused his right eye to explode out of its socket, while a weave of Fire sliced his left arm off at the shoulder. But it was the weave of Earth entering Riddle's brain that did the most damage. He won't regain control over his gross motor functions for at least an hour.

Now that his opponent was incapacitated, Harry began weaving a fist of pure Spirit. He used every bit of Saidin that he could summon, and slammed it into place. Severing a Forsaken was a tricky and uncertain business. The process seemed to work though, since Riddle started screaming.

Harry opened a Gateway to the Academy, and carried his prisoner through. "Healer Starkey!"

The old squib healer was a short distance away, overseeing the prisoners Argus had brought back from Hogwarts. He quickly ran to his Lord's side, and began examining the body floating in the air. "Who is this, and what the hell happened to him?"

"His name is Tom Riddle, and I happened to him," Harry explained. "Stabilized his condition, but don't worry about repairing his eye or his arm. Argus, where are you?"

"Right here my Lord."

"I want a strong Circle to maintain a Shield over Riddle at all times. He has been severed, but I'm not certain if the condition is permanent or not."

Sirius, Remus, and the girls soon arrived at the Traveling Grounds to investigate the commotion. "What happened? Where is Trixie?" his godfather asked.

"She was tortured to death while we were dealing with the Death Eaters. Please see to the body. I have to stay here with Riddle," Harry told them. Narcissa began to cry, so he added: "Remus, take her back to your house."

"I want to see my sister!"

"No, you don't."

There was something in the tone of Harry's voice which caused them all to step back in fear. Without another word Remus led Narcissa away, while a stunned Sirius went through the Gateway to collect his deceased cousin. Hermione and Luna were holding on to each other as they too began to cry.

"What's going on?" a hysterical Hermione demanded. "You said that he was dead. You said no one could survive Balefire."

"I don't know what's going on, but I intend to find out once Riddle's condition has been stabilized," Harry told her. "Xenophilius, take these two home and put them to bed. That's an order."

"My Lord," Starkey whispered. "I've stopped the bleeding and closed up his major wounds, but I'm not sure about the extent of his neurological damage. What did you do to him?"

Harry had used one of the forbidden weaves created by Semirhage during the War of Power, but the gentle healer didn't need to know that. "He will recover in about an hour, although he might suffer from minor seizures for the next week or so. If he lives that long, which is highly unlikely."

The subsequent interrogation of Tom Riddle was conducted with a great deal of care. Basic torture wouldn't get Harry the answers he needed. Instead he used every trick in the book: the constant presence of loud noises and bright lights, always keeping the prisoner in stressful positions, and depriving him of any sleep. They even used cold water to induce a case of hypothermia.

When Riddle began to crack under all the pressure Harry finally used Compulsion. It was a complex weave of Spirit that stripped an individual of their free will. The Hall of Servants and later the White Tower had always considered its use to be a crime, but by this point he really didn't care.

"So you actually created multiple horcruxes?" a horrified Remus asked Riddle as they repeatedly went over the sick story of his life.

The former werewolf asked most of the questions because he had a much deeper understand of magical theory than Sirius. A grieving Narcissa was in no shape to contribute, while Hermione and Luna were far too young to be exposed to this kind of brutality.

"Only three of my horcruxes are left," Riddle responded in a dead, mechanical voice. Using this much Compulsion had probably caused permanent brain damage, and again Harry really didn't care. "They are located in a cave I discovered beneath the city of Norwich."

A few hours later after a short trip to Britain the group was staring at Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Dumbledore's old wand, and an ugly black ring. "So these are the fabled Deathly Hallows. I can't believe we used one of them to spy on the girl's showers all those years ago," Sirius remarked.

"If these soul containers—as you call them—are destroyed then Riddle will not be reborn after his next death?"

Remus shook his head. "Harry, your guess is as good as mine. Here at the Academy we are under strict orders from you to ignore magic, and focus all our attention on the One Power. Riddle was mixing the two disciplines together in unpredictable ways. I don't think he had any idea what he was really doing."

Sirius snorted. "So Moony, you're telling us that this whole mess was caused by some experiment gone horribly wrong?"

"That sounds about right to me," Harry said as he seized Saidin.

He saw no point in dragging this out. The Deathly Hallows were immediately consumed by a weave of Fire. The heat from these flames was so intense that nothing remained of the three magical artifacts. Harry then repeated the weave on Tom Riddle himself. It was over so quickly that the wizard didn't even have a chance to react to the searing pain of being burned alive.

"So what are you going to do now?" Sirius asked after a long and uncomfortable silence.

"Argus!"

The squib quickly stepped forward. He hadn't missed a second of Riddle's long and unpleasant interrogation. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Summon the Argonauts. We are going to war."

"With pleasure, my Lord!"

This news alarmed Remus, but he waited until after the grinning squib had left the room before asking his question. "Who exactly are we going to war against?"

"The entire magical world," Harry replied. "This sort of perverse experimentation with magic and the One Power must not be allowed to happen again. It is simply too dangerous. All wizards and witches will become Aes Sedai, or they will be permanently severed from their magic. No other choice will be permitted."

* * *

**Ninety-One Years Later**

The Dragon had spent the past six hours chasing the man formerly known as Tom Riddle around the globe, always driving him towards the ruins of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They had left a wide swath of destruction in their wake: earthquakes, massive forest fires, and even the occasional tsunami. This was the Dark One's eleventh rebirth, and their war was becoming more destructive as the cycle kept repeating itself. It was hard to believe, but the muggles continued to ignore the existence of the Aes Sedai, even with all that evidence staring them right in the face.

"Why were you so anxious to return to the scene of your greatest crime?" the Dark One asked.

They often had chats like this after the Dragon won their latest duel and temporarily severed him. These victories were becoming more and more difficult, since the former wizard was a genius. After each successive rebirth he would spend years in intense training before resurfacing. Despite his ever-increasing strength the Dark One still could not match the Aes Sedai's power and experience. But it was only a matter of time before that changed.

"My greatest crime... that's one way of looking at it," the Dragon said as he glanced over at the ruins of Hogwarts.

After the Argonauts plundered the school's magical library, he had personally destroyed the castle. His only regret was that the traitor Minerva McGonagall wasn't alive to see her beloved Hogwarts destroyed. Every government building, shopping district, school, and hospital in the magical world soon met with a similar fate. The Aurors and Hit Wizards proved to be no match for the ruthless leadership of the Dragon and his army of furious squibs.

The Dark One realized that his enemy wasn't interested in discussing the past. "What is your plan this time? Will you try to imprison me again?"

Shortly after his third rebirth they had imprisoned the man they still referred to as Tom Riddle. For forty years they conducted experiment after experiment on him. This was why they plundered the world's magical libraries—they needed more information about the horcruxes and how they worked.

Slowly they pieced together what happened. Using the Deathly Hallows as horcruxes allowed Riddle to accidentally tap into an unknown source of energy: the True Power. His horcruxes were irrelevant now because it was his connection to True Power that kept him alive. At first they thought Riddle had been in communication with the Dark One, but he repeatedly denied having any knowledge of such a supernatural being.

Finally he became so frustrated with their endless questions that he declared in jest: "I am the Dark One you bloody fools!"

What started off as a sick joke quickly became a theory. The Dragon was certain that the Dark One's prison was located at Hogwarts, but even after years of searching he had never been able to find it. Why? In retrospect the answer was painfully obvious: because it hadn't been built yet.

The more he thought about theory, the more it made sense. During the Age of Legends Ishmael had convinced the world that the Dark One was a god-like figure, but was there any real proof for that claim? During the War of Power the Forsaken and their Shadowspawn had done all the real fighting. Creating the Taint was an impressive feat, but it had taken the Dragon and his ally Nynaeve al'Meara less than a day to cleanse Saidin forever. The Dark One could control the weather on a global scale, but the Sea Folk had been able to negate that control with a single _Ter'angreal_. Yes, he was immensely powerful, but in the larger scheme of things he was too weak and too limited to be considered a god.

"As a matter of fact, I have designed a new prison for you."

"How predictable you've become," the Dark One sneered. "I sometimes regret murdering your little blonde wife and that clever mudblood who followed you around like a pet dog. At least those two had a certain degree of imagination."

"This prison is different."

"I'm sure that it is," the Dark One said dismissively as he sat down and assumed the lotus position.

As some point during those long years of imprisonment, the Dark One taught himself in an advance form of mediation. It gave him conscious control of his bodily functions—including his heartbeat. Soon afterwards he committed suicide. From then on whenever he was captured alive he simply committed suicide again, which allowed him to be reborn outside of their control.

"Farewell my dear Dragon. We will see each other again in a few years. And I promise you that next time you'll get a better fight."

"You have to meditate for several minutes before you can induce heart failure, and by then it will be too late."

"I find that difficult to believe."

Soon the others began to arrive via Gateways. All told there were two-hundred and forty-five men, and two-hundred and fifty-nine women. These were the strongest of the new Aes Sedai. Thousands of wizards and witches had been severed during the Last Great Witch Hunt, but most had accepted conversion. After their training some of these converts had rebelled under the leadership of Remus Lupin and his wife Narcissa, but they had been shown no mercy. Those who remain alive were now loyal to their great leader.

"I am going imprison you outside of this universe," the Dragon explained as his Aes Sedai quickly formed seven full Circles. "Even with all your powers it will be impossible for you to escape without the assistance of others."

"How could you possible know that?"

"As you know I'm from the future, and I've finally accepted the truth: that future is set in stone. Events will play out exactly as they did before. You will be trapped in this new prison for thousands upon thousands of years before you are finally released. It will happen, and there is nothing either one of us can do to change that fact."

The Dark One watched in horror as the Circles created dozens of complex weaves he could never hope to match. These strange geometrical shapes of Saidin and Saidar ripped open a hole in the very fabric of the universe. Beyond this hole was another dimension—one far different than our own. The weaves were so perfectly designed that no seals were required this time. After three attempts, the Dragon had the process down to a science.

"You may have won today, but I shall have my revenge!" the Dark One shouted just before he disappeared from sight.

"Yes, I know that you shall," his enemy whispered.

* * *

Afterwards the Dragon spent hours staring at the ruins of Hogwarts, contemplating a lifetime full of mistakes and failures. Then he noticed a tall man standing a few meters away. Given the defensive wards in place it should have been impossible for anyone to get that close. The stranger was wearing a long brown robe made of animal furs, but it was his face that caught the Dragon's attention.

"You look exactly like a wizard I once knew, but he died many years ago while sitting on the loo."

"Actually Rufus Scrimgeour looked like me," the stranger replied. "You should stop moping about like this. Teaching Gellert Grindelwald how to channel was an honest mistake."

"How could you possible know what I was thinking?" the Dragon demanded as he entered the Void and attempted to seize Saidin. But it wasn't there, nor was there any Shield that he could sense. "Who are you?"

"I am the **CREATOR**. If you prefer I can use my regular voice. You know, the one that makes it seem as if your skull is about to explode outwards at the speed of light. You have heard that voice before at Tarwin's Gap, when Rand al'Thor truly channeled for the first time."

"That won't be necessary. I believe you."

And the Dragon did believe him. No single Aes Sedai could Shield him, nor did anyone alive know all those obscure details about the future. No one expect for this... well, whatever the **CREATOR** was.

"Good, I am glad we have that straighten out. As I was saying, you should stop wasting your time thinking about Gellert Grindelwald."

"I can't stop thinking about him," the Dragon replied. "If I had listen to Albus Dumbledore's advice and left Grindelwald to rot in Nurmengard, Tom Riddle never would have learn how to channel the One Power. Consequently he never would have accidentally discovered the True Power. He never would have become the Dark One."

"That is all true," the **CREATOR** agreed.

The Dragon suddenly became enraged. The fact that he was personally responsible for the creation of the Dark One was a sore subject for him. "If that's all true than why did you send my memories back into the past, you idiot?"

"So you could teach others how to become Aes Sedai. If I had left humanity to its own devices it would have taken them over ten millennia to discover what you have taught them about the One Power in less than a century."

"The world wouldn't need bloody Aes Sedai if the bloody Dark One never existed. But now he does exist thanks to you. He is locked away in that prison, growing ever stronger, and just waiting for Lanfear to free him. Just waiting to ravage the world once again. I hate the bloody Wheel of Time!"

"Of all the gifts I have given humanity, Free Will is by far the most precious," the **CREATOR** quietly told him. "Would you have me take it away because of the actions of a single person?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Tom Riddle chose his fate, a fate which twisted him into an inhuman abomination."

"True, but you must have known what Riddle was going to become and how much destruction he would cause before you sent my memories back," the Dragon argued desperately. 'You could have prevented all of this. You should have prevented all of this."

"Do you wish humanity to be nothing more than puppets subject to my various whims?"

"Preventing the rise of the Dark One is not the same thing as abolishing Free Will for the rest of us."

"Where would you have me draw the line?" the **CREATOR** asked. "If I summoned Remus Lupin back from the dead, he would demand that I destroy you as well. The definition of evil is intensely subjective, and I refuse to start making decisions like that for my offspring."

By now the Aes Sedai was so enraged that his entire body was shaking. "I hate you."

The **CREATOR** grimaced. "I get that reaction a lot. As I was saying, Tom Riddle chose his fate. Just as you must choose whether or not to save the world two years from now."

Those words left the Dragon in utter shock, and all his rage suddenly vanished. It was replaced with a sense of bone-crushing exhaustion. "So I have to save the world? Again?"

"Yes, you do. That is the reason why I sent your memories back into the past."

"I thought you wanted me to imprison the Dark One."

"I was counting on that. Tom Riddle acted as a catalyst, and his mad ambitions forced you to reinvent the Aes Sedai. For the first time. Even during your Age of Legends assembling seven full Circles was unheard of."

"Besides creating that prision, what else could possible require the use of seven full Circles?"

"Have you ever heard of the Siberian Traps?"

When the Dragon shook his head, the **CREATOR **continued: "The Siberian Traps was the name given to a massive volcanic eruption which occurred hundreds of millions of years ago here on Earth. It lasted for decades, and was responsible for the extinction of vast majority of the species alive at the time. Even sixty percent of the insects died, and that almost never happens. I designed the little buggers to be tough. It took the planet nearly thirty million years to recover from this cataclysm."

"So let me guess: there is going to be another massive volcanic eruption like the Siberian Traps, and my Aes Sedai will have to find a way to stop it?"

"This eruption will be far worse, and even with the One Power you will not be able to prevent it. But you will be able to reduce the amount of damage it causes by redirecting the subterranean magma flows. If everything goes just right the human race will survive. Barely. I suppose I should tell you that the effort will cause the destruction of all seven Circles."

"And if I refuse to accept this new mission?"

"Then the Earth will be reduced to a barren, lifeless rock. Absolutely nothing will survive, not even the insects. Not even the bacteria," the **CREATOR** explained. "And I for one would hate to see that happen."


End file.
